


Take Back the Pines

by novusavis



Series: Take Back The Pines [2]
Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Apocalypse, Canon Divergence - Not What He Seems, Dark!Dipper, Families of Choice, Gore, Mabel is also a badass, Magic, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Wendy is a badass, also servant dipper, also the ending will murder your heart, also wendy curses, and also severely frustrate you at times, and they all feel guilty, assassin dipper, bill is a major league asshat, descriptions of violence, dipper is a complete cinnamon roll tho, haha im going to hell for this, once i'm finished with the story i'm going to go back and make edits to the story, probably the most badass of the fic, severe angst, so is gideon, stan is a cinnamonroll, though her first badass moment is a little later in the fic, warning will play with your emotions, whoops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-11
Updated: 2017-08-13
Packaged: 2018-05-19 15:47:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 20
Words: 73,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5972914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/novusavis/pseuds/novusavis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Seven years ago, Mabel made the decision against pushing the button. Seven years ago, the portal allowed Bill Cipher to take over the world, become the tyrant of the apocalypse. Seven years ago, Dipper was ripped away from the family, with no explanation other than Bill's cackle. To get by, the Pines have done everything they had to to survive. They mastered different forms of magic, became expert on monsters, and talented in combat, all to complete their objective. Take down Bill, and save Dipper.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Dangerous Dealings

**Author's Note:**

> I've been wanting to write this for a while, had the idea a few months ago, but lacked a good plot to complete it. Luckily, I was recently inspired and motivated, so this is the beginning of an adventure! I hope you all enjoy chapter one, please leave your thoughts in the comments, I would love to hear what you think so far!

**Mabel**

Soft snores echo in the small room, drifting lightly through the air to any listening ear. The ten bunk beds are all being occupied by an exhausted individual who has waited far too long to have a decent rest. The only light comes from underneath the single door, along with the faint sound of feverish typing, the windows having been boarded shut years ago.

Mabel leans back against the wall, staring at the faded mattress of the bed above her own. Seven years ago, she would have been a shrieking mess at the thought of getting the top bunk, excitedly bouncing around until someone, most likely her brother, gave her the rights to take the top bunk. Instead she had just slid into the bottom, nodding at Wendy when asked if she could take the top. _Thanks dude_ , Wendy had grinned, giving her a fist bump before hauling herself up the wooden ladder.

It isn’t really that surprising, a lot has happened in the last seven years- one of the biggest being the apocalypse. Not the biggest though, no definitely not the biggest thing to have happened. Her fingers tug lightly at her greasy, matted hair, her mind wandering, not ready to surrender to sleep. After a few minutes, Mabel sighs softly, rising to her feet and padding lightly to the door, opening it quietly as to not wake the others.

In the hallway her two great uncles, Uncle Ford and Grunkle Stan sit on the floor, Ford typing furiously away at his laptop and Stan watching the staircase down the hall, a metal bat in hand. At the sound of the door, the duo’s heads snap up, eyes training on the approaching figure, stiffening for a split second before relaxing.

“Mabel, what are you doing up? You should be getting some sleep while you have the chance.” Ford chides, his tired but warm eyes gazing up at her through cracked glasses, searching his niece’s face as though he might be able to read it like one of his textbooks if he tries hard enough.

Mabel shrugs slightly, her fingers picking at the edge of her worn down sweater. “I just don’t feel like sleeping right now. Not tired enough I guess.” She looks up, large maple brown eyes connecting with Grunkle Stan’s, desperately trying to convey a message of, _I’m really emotional right now and I don’t want to talk about it_ , but still subtly enough that Ford won’t notice.

She isn’t sure if Grunkle Stan reads it, because he announces with a large yawn, “Well, if you’re gonna be out here I don’t need to be.” He tosses the bat to Mabel, “Have fun kiddo.” Then enters the room to crash for a bit.

Sliding down to the floor next to the floor, Mabel peers over a broad shoulder to look at the glowing screen, “So whatcha doin’?”

Ford doesn’t bother to look up from his typing, but there is still warmth in his words, “I’m going through all of my files to see if we have anything on Bill’s death squad. So far, from what I can tell, out of the three remaining members, one is a siren and-”

“Woah wait, I thought sirens were mermaids, how is that even possible? That thing isn’t even in the water or anything.”

Even as he sighs, a smile pulls at her uncle’s lips, “Well, I classified the species as a siren because it uses similar tactics in all of its assassinations. First it seduces the victims and once their guard is dropped, it attacks.”

Mabel’s eyes widen, trained on the few blurry pictures Ford has collected from the other teams that encountered it. For the most part, it looks human, but in pictures the eyes always end up glowing a bright blue.

“I’m certain the second one is a minor league dream demon, not surprising really, but the third I have no clue.” Ford’s brows draw together in frustration as he gestures to the final set of pictures.

This set is the worst of them in quality, though Mabel can still make out a human-like figure clad in all black head to toe. “Well, I’m gonna suggest-”

“Oh no, don’t-”

“That it is _most definitely_ a vampire.”

Ford groans, placing his head in his hands, “Mabel, not every being we come across is a vampire. We’ve been over this hundreds of times already.”

The young woman rolls her eyes, “I’m going to be right one of these days, just you wait.”

Her uncle just shakes his head, adjusting his glasses. He returns his attention to the screen for another few minutes, eyes scanning the pictures repeatedly. “So, do you want to talk about why you’re really out here and not sleeping?”

Mabel studies her bare feet resting on the worn carpet floor, eyes roaming over the scars gained over the years, hoping to avoid the older man’s strong gaze. She stays quiet several minutes, words tumbling in her head over and over until she manages in a small, broken voice, “It’s been seven years. _Seven years_ , Ford, and we’re still no closer to defeating Bill,” She inhales sharply, tears slipping down her cheeks, “A-and we don’t even know if h-he’s still alive. What if Dipper’s dead?”

Uncle Ford pulls the now sobbing girl so she is resting on his shoulder, a large hand rubbing her back in a soothing circular motion. He doesn’t respond at first, then says quietly, “Mabel, we can’t give up hope on your brother. I don’t know where he is or what condition Bill has left him in, but I _promise_ , we will find him and bring him back.”

The pair sit like that for several minutes, leaning into one another, Mabel’s hiccups calming into even breathing. She watches as her uncle returns to his research, the furious typing resuming as he accesses file after file of information, searching for any insight on their mystery foe.

“You would have liked him.” Mabel whispers suddenly, her voice still tight from crying.

“Hmm?” Ford looks up at her once more, “Who, Dipper?”

The brunette nods slightly, a teasing smile tugging at rosy lips, “Oh yeah. You both are complete nerds, you would have loved him.”

A deep chuckle, “I’m not a nerd, I’m a genius who has a lack of better things to do than study mythological creatures-”

“So a fancy nerd- wait. No, you’re right. You’re both _geeks _, silly me, what was I thinking?”__

____

__More laughter, “Oh hush up, Miss _-I-can-name-every-episode-of-Ducktective_.” Mabel snorts at that, eyes rolling over dramatically, then Ford continues, more calmly, “Well, that may be true. Maybe your brother and I would have gotten along famously. However, I’m glad I got to know you first, that way I won’t have missed out on an amazing niece by favoring a nephew.”_ _

____

__Mabel hums softly at that, her focus on the laptop screen dropping slowly. The clicking of the keyboard along with the familiar magical pulse Ford radiates lulls Mabel into a light doze, still somewhat aware of her surroundings._ _

____

__“ _Well, well, well,_ if it isn’t my old friends Shooting Star and Sixer. Fancy seeing you ‘round these parts.” A high pitched cackle rings out in the quiet hallway._ _

____

__Both Pines bolt up, Mabel securing her grip on the bat and Ford pulling out his multidimensional gun. The pair’s eyes train on the tall, shadowy figure standing poise at the edge of the staircase. The man is lean, dressed in a long, black tailcoat and dress pants, wheat-golden blond hair neatly greased back underneath a tall inky black top hat that is rather plain, excluding the large golden eye in place of the classic buckle. Bright amber-gold eyes peer down at them, a wicked grin adding to their unease._ _

____

__“Cipher,” Ford growls out through gritted teeth, his eyes flashing menacingly, “What do you want?”_ _

____

__Bill laughs, then coos, “Oh, I’m glad to see you too. What? Can’t I just check in to see how my favorite family is doing? It has been a while since we’ve had a proper talk… what, six- no seven years, correct?”_ _

____

__Mabel starts forward, her grip on the bat tightening in anger, knuckles white, when a pair of strong hands pull her back. She looks up, blinking in surprise at the sight of Stan, Wendy, and Soos accompanying Ford. She didn’t remember the door ever opening, feeling surprised she didn’t detect the familiar tang of each of their personal magic before._ _

____

__“Haven’t you done enough damage to this family, Cipher?” Stan says gruffly, a fire of hatred alight in his normally warm irises, his jaw clenched tight._ _

____

__The dream demon tilts his head to the right slightly, an amused smile playing across his face, his eyes training themselves on Mabel’s soft features, “My, my, don’t tell me we’re still emotional over Pinetree?” When the expressions of the five individual’s visibly darken, like deep thunder clouds ready to rain hell on the world below, he sighs almost tiredly, “I will never understand you humans. Honestly, he was so weak, he would have just dragged the rest of you down.” His eyes glint dangerously, a vicious look transforming his face, “But it isn’t even _my_ fault any of this happened, right Shooting Star?”_ _

____

__Mabel can feel herself shaking, both in anger and in the effort of trying to suppress the urge to break down sobbing. “Hey, I have an idea. Why don’t you fuck off, you overgrown dorito?” The ginger behind her snaps, venom dripping from her words._ _

____

__Bill just smirks, “But I have a deal to offer.”_ _

____

___“No.” _The five unanimously reject the notion immediately.__ _ _

______ _ _

____“I wasn’t finished,” the demon snaps, eyes flashing red. He takes a deep breath, eyes closing for a few seconds, then continues, “It would be... mutually beneficial.”_ _ _ _

______ _ _

____Uncle Ford’s eyebrows raise in disbelief, “Oh really? Let me guess, we don’t die, right?”_ _ _ _

______ _ _

____“No, actually. Your reward is I leave you alone. _For good._ ”_ _ _ _

______ _ _

____The group stays silent for a couple of minutes, staring at the figure, trying to read any signs of dishonesty, but he merely stands there, awaiting their answer. Slowly, Ford picks up the conversation, caution and weariness evident in his voice, “Okay, so what kind of deal are we talking about?”_ _ _ _

______ _ _

____Bill blinks, the creepy grin returning to his face, “I need you to recollect the navitas crystals again. Four, to be exact.”_ _ _ _

______ _ _

____Stanford’s expression hardens again, a sharp frown pulling at his features, making him appear older, “What the hell do you want those for, Cipher?”_ _ _ _

______ _ _

____Everyone’s eyes turn to the older man, curiosity written across their faces, “Wait, what are navitas crystals?” Mabel pipes up, eyes darting between the demon and her uncle._ _ _ _

______ _ _

____Ford is slow to responding, thinking about his choice of words carefully, but Bill beats him to the punch, “They are incredibly powerful magical substances. If used correctly, they can be used to rip into the fabric of the dimensional walls to create portals to the other dimensions.”_ _ _ _

______ _ _

____Their eyes flash back to Ford, who grits out, “Exactly, so why should we give something like that to you?”_ _ _ _

______ _ _

____Bill rolls his eyes, sighing in exasperation, “Um, because I asked you to?” Noticing his explanation isn’t satisfying them, he drawls, “I plan on rebuilding the portal from all those years ago... but much bigger. More powerful.”_ _ _ _

______ _ _

____The mood shifts instantly, the family all stiffening into a defensive stance once more, “No.” Stan snaps, “No, definitely not. Not after last time.” His voice shakes, if only very slightly, at his last words._ _ _ _

______ _ _

____Bill’s expression darkens, his eyes shifting to a blood red, “What a pity, after all,” he says, his voice cold, a gun materializing in his crisp gloved hands, aiming it at Mabel’s chest, “It would be a shame if you lost Thing Two in _such similar_ circumstances to Thing One.”_ _ _ _

______ _ _

____Everyone freezes, eyes widening. Ford swallows, “Okay, okay. So we just have to get the crystals?”_ _ _ _

______ _ _

____Bill doesn’t lower the gun, scarlet gaze shifting to rest on the scientist’s face, “Yes, gather the crystals and bring them to me within a month.”_ _ _ _

______ _ _

____Wendy’s voice interrupts the two, her voice angry, “Wait, why the hell are you making us get the damn things for you? If you’re so powerful, you should get them yourself.”_ _ _ _

______ _ _

____A dark chuckle resounds through the dim hallway, “I have more important things to be dealing with. It’s much more convenient to have a set of my own personal dogs fetching it for me.”_ _ _ _

______ _ _

____Mabel can feel her family’s anger rolling off them, their magic pulsing dangerously. Bright sparks twitch wildly around the tips of Wendy’s fingers. The corridor is silent except for the low hum of the ceiling lights, the party members waiting for Stanford’s decision._ _ _ _

______ _ _

____Finally, the scientist lets out a broken, defeated sigh, resigning to their defeat to the dream demon. He gives a slow nod, his almond eyes meeting the malicious scarlet ones, “Okay, we’ll do it, but only because _you are going to swear_ to leave us alone.”_ _ _ _

______ _ _

____The demon grins triumphantly, gun disappearing with a wave of a hand. His eyes fade back to the piercing gold as he adjusts his bowtie. “So, we have a deal then?” He asks mockingly, walking up to the group, stopping several feet away. He holds one white gloved hand out to Stanford, the hand alight in a cold blue flame, eyes flashing._ _ _ _

______ _ _

____Stanford goes to shake the hand, to seal the deal, but Stanley suddenly pulls him back, “Wait. I want my nephew back.”_ _ _ _

______ _ _

____Bill’s eyes narrow, his hand retreating slightly as he studies Stan’s face. “Oh?” He says, voice dangerous, calm and low, almost a whisper._ _ _ _

______ _ _

____Mabel bites her lip, a spark of hope warming her chest. Stan stays strong in his request, “I want you to return Dipper to us. You stole him, and if we do this, I am requiring you return him to us.”_ _ _ _

______ _ _

____A cold, high pitched cackle causes everyone to jump, “Oh-oh Stanley Pines, you are just too funny,” Bill catches his breath, face returning to a stone cold look of distaste, “As funny as you are, the answer is what it always has been and always will be,” The demon’s eyes flash red once more, pupils narrowing into sharp slits, “ _Pinetree belongs to me_ , and nothing, _nothing_ you say or do will change that. Now I recommend you shut your mouth before I make an example of Shooting Star here.”_ _ _ _

____Mabel’s eyes widen, maple irises sparkling with pain and loss, tears brimming around the edges. Wendy growls, reaching out a hand to hold Mabel’s. Soos helps her pull the young brunette back, their arms wrapping tightly around her in a protective embrace while Mabel tries to get the tears to stop rolling down her face._ _ _ _

____Stanford pulls Bill’s attention back as quickly as possible, trying to ensure nothing angers the dream demon further, “So, Cipher, do we still have our deal?” He asks lightly, holding his hand out._ _ _ _

______ _ _

____The figure turns back to Ford, grasping his hand, blue flames fluttering between the two, and another wicked, animalistic grin splitting his face as he purrs, _“Deal.”_ Then, the demon straightens up again, adjusting his hat, “I will be seeing you all tomorrow morning to straighten out a few more details, but for now, _sweet dreams.”_ _ _ _ _

______ _ _


	2. The Ambassador

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, go me, being so responsible in writing.

**...**

Quiet, fast paced footsteps echo in a lonesome sort of way throughout the long, empty corridor, the blue-flamed torches fluttering lightly against the cold, pearly walls. The black marble floor swirls and shimmers, the glossy surface appearing to fade into spiraling galaxies and stars distantly while still reflecting the world above. 

The young man currently making his way to the impressive, arched doorway at the end of the hall is occupied by the pile of scrolls that he barely manages to clamp his arms around. Using his weight to open the doors, he makes his way into a regal throne room, approaching the wicked throne that swirls with faces of victims- all screaming in anguish and pain no doubt- and stacks the scrolls lightly on one broad armrest. With brisk movements, he dusts the throne and redraws the magic sigil in the center of the floor with a sticky scarlet fluid, only just retrieving two servants and directing them to their places when the main entrance doors burst open. A tall, blond figure enters the room, strutting in, a broad grin marking the success of whatever job he had completed.

When the figure is a couple feet away, the young man bows, asking in a quiet voice with perfect articulation, “Master Cipher, welcome back.” His voice remains blank behind the politeness and manners, no emotion draining through, and straightens up, “Would I be correct in assuming your project went well?”

The grin widens, teeth glinting wickedly in the magical torchlight, “Aw, it’s nice to see you too, my little Pinetree. And yes, _very well._ ” The demon glides past Dipper, sauntering up to lounge on the throne, both legs dangling over an armrest, head leaning back, while his eyes gliding over the high ceilings. Bill begins telling the boy about some of the things he accomplished in the last two weeks while he was away, some stories being told enthusiastically, his hands waving in broad gestures and feet twitching. The scrolls sitting on the armrest tumble to the floor, when the demon’s foot moves suddenly, a the slight sound of the paper hitting the cold marble jarring Bill from his thoughts. Dipper quickly moves to retrieve them, mumbling apologies as he goes. Bill eyes them, obviously annoyed by the interruption, “What are those for?”

The young man straightens, adjusting the paper overflowing in his grip, answering in solemn voice, “Sirene’s reports from his searches around the old Canadian border.” The dream demon rolls his eyes, so Dipper hurries on before he loses the little interest he has, “He was tracking a wavelength, one that was similar to a navitas crystal,” Bill freezes, eyes darting back to the boy’s face.

"And?" He asks impatiently.

“It faded until it was too dull to trace around the Arken territory…”

Golden eyes narrow, flashing with something unidentifiable. There is silence for several minutes, Dipper’s eyes studying his feet, awaiting his master’s response. A huff of frustration, “Well, at least my backup plan is coming into play.” His face lights up, the troubling grin creeping across his lips once more. The demon turns sharply to his servant, “Pinetree, love, I have a task for you.”

Dipper’s head snaps up, and it takes all his strength not to shudder at the nickname, knowing full well the demon only uses it in hopes of upsetting him. He searches the demon's expression cautiously before answering, “Yes, Master Cipher? What can I do to assist you?”

Bill coos, leaning towards the younger male, Dipper once again restraining himself from flinching away as the demon purrs, a devilish glint in his eyes as he holds the boy’s chin in an iron grip, “Well, why don’t we go find out, hmm?”

**Mabel**

Mabel carries the emergency first aid kits from the abandoned motel to the RV, her eyes carefully trailing the few young children in their party like a hawk as they run around playing tag, screeching and laughing like maniacs. At least they're enjoying themselves, even if for just a short time. She tries not to focus too much on the events of last night, but Mabel's mind continues to return its attention to the golden irises that have been long since forever seared into the back of her mind, and the daunting task they now face. 

Once the demon had left, none of them could return to their slumbers, instead camping out in the hallway, not wanting to disturb the sleeping individuals still in the room. Their vacant eyes trained on the walls while Stan and Ford had halfheartedly continued the research on the mystery assassin before switching to the topic of the said crystals.

Mabel blinks, hearing the hushed whispers of her uncles in the RV. She quickly maneuvers around the side of the vehicle, listening in on the worry-filled voices while watching through a small, tinted window, “I just don’t understand why we have to do it, surely he has some lackey that can-” 

“There must be a legitimate reason- that is, other than him and his love for being catered to. Otherwise he wouldn’t risk us coming into possession of the crystals, we would become a threat.”

Stan eyes widen in surprise, a hand raising to rub at the stubble creeping along his jaw, “Wait, they’re that powerful? _We_ would be a threat to _him_?”

Ford nods absently, adjusting his glasses, “Yes, if you collect navitas crystals and know how to wield them, you have an immense amount of power under your control.” He glances at Stan’s face, which has darkened thoughtfully, “Stanley, _no_. I know what you’re thinking right now, but we can’t-”

“Why not, Stanford?” Stan whispers back harshly. He had glances at the door, in the direction of the group packing outside, “If we can get him back... Besides, don't you want Mabel to be happy again?”

"She is happy, Lee." The scientist doesn't sound very convinced, doubt lacing and weaving among his words.

Stan laughs, "You think she's happy? I mean, yeah, she isn't as bad as the first year or two, but if we could get Dipper back..." 

Mabel bites her lip in excitement, then takes a deep breath, recollecting herself. Before Ford can make a comeback that crushes her hope, the young woman turns, a bright expression overtaking her features, and enters the vehicle. Both uncles turn quickly at the intrusion. “Hey, I’ve got the medical kits and extra water. Where do you want it.” she chirps, eyes feigning innocence.

They both relax, taking the bait and playing it off as though they hadn’t been talking about some really important topic that definitely involves Mabel. Ford turns, gesturing at the basket under one of the seats, “Oh thanks. They can go under there.”

She marches forward, sliding the crate carefully underneath the seat, inquiring in a light voice, “So what are we going to do now? Bill said we had a month or something, right?”

Stan slowly inhales, a hand reaching back to scratch his head, “Well, we aren’t sure where the navitas crystals are currently located, so…” He looks to his twin for further ideas.

“We’ll head up to the western ridge that’s about a day’s drive away. That’s the closest outlet point that where we can use our magic in a broader search for the crystals' wavelength.” Stanford glances at Mabel, “Do you think Wendy would be up for locating them for us?”

Shouting and screaming from outside intervenes, Mabel freezing, mouth open with a response balancing on the tip of her tongue. The trio is instantly outside, ready to defend the party. They freeze, spotting the threat about nine meters off to their left. Ford instructs everyone to get in their assigned cars, then he, Stan, Mabel, and Wendy approach, Soos joining them as well after he herded the children away.

Bill appears to have switched out his classy black trench coat for one of canary yellow that fades into a stormy gray at the edges. He patiently waits for the group to come close enough for a conversation, posture much like the previous night’s. However, today the demon is not alone. On his left, Mabel recognizes the new company as the mystery assassin, who stands stiff, watching them approach with caution. Mabel can’t help but study them. They are clad in all black, a number of leather straps having been attached to the clothes to hold knives. The mask, however, is the most noticeable accessory. It covers the majority of their face, tracing the forehead and running along the nose and under their eyes right above the angle of their jaw. Like everything else, the mask is a shadowy black, however it does have three small yellow triangles under the left eye and the outline of a triangle around the right. So the only part of their face that isn’t covered is the eyes and the mouth. Overall, the assassin appears to be incredibly uncomfortable, as Mabel notices she isn’t the only person studying them. They shift their feet, eyes training themselves on Cipher, occasionally glancing at the Pines family, studying their faces as well.

“I came to wrap up some loose ends of the deal.” Bill purrs, satisfaction and victory dancing in his eyes. No one replies, so the demon continues, “To ensure you are staying on track with your assignment as well as to ensure you don’t fool around with the navitas crystals, I am assigning my servant here,” he gestures vaguely to Mr. Mystery, “To travel with you and be an… _ambassador_ of sorts.”

“No. Absolutely not.” Ford growls, “We’ll do this job for you, Cipher, but I refuse to have that murderer with us. They are a threat to the entire group.”

The demon sighs overdramatically, “I really don’t have time for this right now. He will only be a threat if you become a threat to me.” 

Ford’s scowl deepens, but Mabel decides to step in, waving her hands to catch the dream demon's attention, “Okay, whatever!” Everyone turns to her, eyes wide with shock. Bill, however, just raises an eyebrow, a shade of interest hinting in the his eyes' golden depths. Mabel turns to the servant-assassin person, “You do anything we don’t like, _you’re dead_.”

A deep chuckle rumbles darkly from Bill, but he makes no further comment. The demon tips his hat to the family, pushing the ‘ambassador’ forward, leaning forward to whisper something softly into his ear. Straightening up, the dream demon returns his razor sharp gaze to Mabel, a shiver running down her spine, “Oh, and Shooting Star, if you think my puppet can be burned down to ash easily,” scarlet pools into his eyes, the now ruby orbs piercing into her soul, the next words coming out as little more than a whisper, “ _I think you will find you are greatly underestimating him_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter three will be uploaded soon, hope you guys are enjoying everything so far. Please leave comments with your thoughts, I would greatly appreciate them, and all kudos are squealed over, guaranteed.


	3. Feigning Trust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yay, flashbacks. And Mabel gets to talk to the assassin a bit.  
> And wow, look at that, two chapters within twenty-four hours.

**Dipper**

Dipper sits stiffy in the back of the old creaking RV, the Pines family clumping together at the front where Stanley drives under Stanford’s guidance. Occasionally, they all take turns in glancing back at him while he pretends to gaze out the window at the passing scenery. He reaches out with his magic, sensing the tenseness in their muscles, all tightly coiled and ready to pounce. Their voices are all hushed and quiet, and Dipper doesn’t have to use his magic to know they don’t trust him at all.

The ambassador gives a small huff, crossing one leg over the other and leaning his head back. The drive’s going to take a while, might as well rest while he can. Dipper allows his mind to drift, quickly searching the mindscape for any traces of a particular dream demon before completely relaxing. Bill has a habit of snooping through his thoughts when Dipper thinks he isn’t paying attention, and it has led to more than one occasion of torture for thoughts of treason. Nothing has happened recently, luckily for Dipper. He became a lot more controlled over his thoughts after enough incredibly unpleasant afternoon sessions.

Slowly, he starts to drift off to sleep, not having gotten any proper rest in the last week. Sirene isn’t normally very pleasant company, even less so when Bill isn’t around to rein him in.

**Seven Years Ago**

_Dipper coughs, the dust from the portal’s pulse having disrupted the entire chamber. With a groan, he lifts a hand to touch the back of his head, which had hit the hard stone wall, his fingers revealing dark scarlet blood. He shakily rises to his feet, eyes darting frantically around searching for his sister. The room is in complete ruin, large chunks of rubble from the ceiling cluttering the ground, the air thick with dust. Dipper spots Mabel, much to his relief. She’s crouching on the floor about three meters to his left, rubbing the dust from her eyes. He darts over, gathering her in his arms, “Mabel! Are you okay?” Fear and worry fills Dipper's mahogany irises as he searches his twin’s face desperately, checking for any injuries. Other than a few scrapes and bruises, she appears to be unharmed._

_“I’m fine,” Mabel mumbles, looking guiltily away from her brother’s concerned gaze._

_Dipper looks up again, this time looking for his- wait, was Stan even his uncle? After the events of the afternoon, Dipper’s faith was dwindling. The old man is making his way over, eyes wide with growing concern. Before he reaches them, the now active portal flashes, a figure stepping through, their cloak billowing behind them as they stride forward. They pick up Journal Number Three from the ground, dusting it before slipping it into an inner pocket, turning to look at the people present._

_Soos reaches the twins, pulling them close into a protective embrace, “Hey, you dudes okay?” Dipper mumbles a reply- eyes darting between Stan and the new company as they stare at each other, neither moving- and Mabel gives a weak nod._

_Stan starts forward, eyes watery, mouth open to say something, but another strong pulse wrecks the chamber again, knocking everyone over._

_“ **Hahahahaha** , oh this is **wonderful**!” An annoying voice shrills out. Dipper scrambles to his feet at the unwelcome, yet sadly familiar voice, as does the foreign figure, frantically searching the area to locate the- “And honestly, out of everyone, I **never** expected Stanley to accomplish this!” Another fit of maniacal laughter._

_A triangle materializes several feet in front of the portal. Bill idly swings his cane from a finger, his eye washing over the family, resting on the twins’ ‘uncle’. He tips his hat to Stan as a sign of gratitude, the older man’s face covered in confusion. The stranger is visibly shaking with anger, “Cipher! Go to hell, no one summoned you here!”_

_Mabel passes out in Dipper’s arms, leaving her twin to witness the proceeding events with wide eyes. Soos lightly presses a palm to her forehead, whispering to Dipper, “I’ll be right back, dude, I’m going to get a medical kit for her.” Dipper’s friend then turns and reluctantly leaves the room._

_Dipper looks back to the scene, finding Bill rolling his eye as the stranger raises a hefty gun at the demon. With a wave of his hand, the man flies back, slamming against the wall and crumpling to the floor. Stan lets out a roar of outrage, grabbing a broken pipe from the floor as he charges forward. Bill simply snaps his fingers, and Dipper’s uncle falls to the floor, suddenly unconscious._

_The dream demon laughs, “Honestly, you humans are just so pathetic.” His figure flashes to a bright red, “Now, how about we dispose of you two, hmm?”_

_Dipper breaks from his trance, crying out before Bill can harm either his uncle or the stranger, “Wait, please don’t hurt them!” He stumbles to his feet, running to put himself between the man who had watched over him and his sister all summer with a growing fondness and the threatening demon, arms stretching out as a shield._

_The demon’s eye narrows, the cat-like slit of a pupil focusing on the young boy, “Why should I? It’s not like he likes you.” Dipper winces, but stands his ground as the dream demon continues, “Stan always has liked your sister better, thought you were a **freak**. So why protect him?”_

_Dipper raises his chin, eyes hardening, “Because Grunkle Stan is a Pines and he is my family.”_

_Bill starts laughing hysterically again, “It’s a good thing I like you, Pinetree, otherwise you would be a pile of ash right now. However,” Bill shifts to a midnight black, using magic to yank Mabel off the ground and into his grip. His thin, black hand wraps tightly around her throat, his single red eye glaring at the twelve-year-old below, “You’ll have to make some sort of offer to keep me from destroying every last one of you.”_

_Dipper’s doe-like eyes widen, “Wait no, **please** -”_

_Bill just squeezes Mabel’s neck tighter, “Hmm, begging is so cute on you, but... no.”_

_“ **Please just** -”_

_“The answer isn’t changing, no matter how loud and pathetic you get-”_

_“ **You can have me**.”_

_Bill freezes, eye narrowing in interest, “Go on.”_

_Dipper chews at his lip, “Y-you can have me. Everything, mind, body, soul, whatever, just,” He looks up at the demon pleadingly, eyes brimming with tears, “Just don't hurt my family._ Please _.” It comes out in the quietest of whispers, voice laced with tremors._

_Bill stares at the boy for a while, each minute blending into the next, until, “Is that a deal, Pinetree? I take you and I don’t hurt a hair on their heads any further?”_

_Dipper nods his head frantically as the demon’s eye flashes to the same bright blue of the flame now encasing his hand, “Deal.” He reaches for Bill’s hand, gripping it with his own, shaking heavily, sealing the deal._

_Bill lets go of Mabel, pointing his finger to direct where she is gently placed down, moving the unconscious men next to her as well. He turns to the shivering boy below him, “This’ll be fun.” With a snap of his fingers, Dipper falls unconscious, thin body slumping to the ground._

**Mabel**

Mahogany eyes snap open as Mabel shakes the guy’s shoulder lightly, disturbing him from his sleep. He sits up, moving quickly to corner himself away from her, and Mabel can’t decide if she feels offended or sorry. She had only woken him up because he was obviously having a bad nightmare, based upon the way his aura had flooded with guilt, fear, and loneliness minutes before.

She holds her hands up in a surrender pose, whisper in a gentle voice, “Whoa, easy there. I just wanted to make sure you were okay, you seemed distressed.” The eyes peaking gazing from behind the mask narrow warily, darting from her to the group still lounging by the wheel. She smiles softly, “They don’t know I’m back here, otherwise they probably would be trying to build a wall between us.”

Mabel can’t help but feel surprised when a quiet voice leaves his lips, “Maybe they have good reason to. Besides, why show me kindness, when you made such a blunt threat this morning.” He turns, looking out the window again, though now the sun has traveled a fair distance across the sky.

She laughs softly, “That was mostly just for show. Besides, you haven’t done anything to piss me off yet.” He looks over at her, eyes expressionless. Mabel bites her lip, never having had to deal with someone this locked up before. She changes tactics, “So, I’m Mabel. Mabel Catherine Pines,” Mabel smiles kindly at him, extending a hand, “What’s your name?”

The ambassador looks at her hand, then back up at her face, searching it for any explanation. Then, after a moment of hesitation, he quietly says, “Malum… Nice to be properly acquainted with you… Miss Mabel Pines.” He takes a light grip on her hand, shakes it twice, then retreats his arm to curl around his folded legs once more. 

Mabel raises her eyebrows, pulling her thick-and still overly greasy- hair into a sloppy bun, “Malum, huh? That's a cool name, sort of exotic. Well, it’s nice to meet you too,” She glances back at the family, but they still haven’t noticed her absence, “So, I wanted to talk for a bit.” Mabel looks Malum in the eye, tilting her head to the side, “What’s with the outfit?”

The ambassador looks at her with disbelief, “I… like the style. And it’s very practical, I can have weapons hidden anywhere and my identity is still safely hidden.” 

Mabel hums softly, blinking, activating her magic so she can watch his aura while talking. It’s still a blank gray, no emotion on the canvas that’s normally a vibrant painting under Mabel’s gaze, “Why would you need to keep your identity a secret? I mean, this is the apocalypse. What’s the point? Who’s going to recognize you?”

The aura shifts as a darker shade of gray, _guilt_ , floods into the lifeless cloud, “Well… Master Cipher prefers being the only one to view my features… he’s a bit possessive of his property…” Malum’s voice grows quiet, a gloved hand fidgeting, fingers shifting to pick at the edge of his sweater.

The brunette's eyes narrow dangerously, maple irises flashing with anger, “You aren’t property, Malum.” He looks at her skeptically, and she sighs, “Well… I don’t believe anyone is property, I mean, sure you work for the evil dorito-” 

“He has legal ownership over me.” Malum interrupts, pushing up his sleeves to his elbows. The skin is heavily tattooed, Bill’s wheel on both arms with swirling symbols wrapping around them. Malum continues, peeling his gloves off, revealing a set of triangles, one on the back of each hand. They sit in silence for a minute, Mabel’s wide, sparkling eyes roaming over the skin, absorbing as much information as possible, “These aren’t the only ones, but you get the point.” 

Mabel whispers in a quiet voice, “I’m so sorry.” The tattoos are basically a magical bond between the boy and Bill. The demon should have the capability to possess him at any given time and to track him wherever he went. If any other demon were to touch the boy, they would face Bill’s wrath. Malum belongs to Bill, not just physically, but mentally and magically too. 

She watches Malum straighten once again, covering his skin. “Don’t be,” he murmurs, and for a split second, Mabel can see the faintest hint of color bloom in his aura cloud. It’s very, _very_ faint, but it’s there, the faintest of blues. _Fondness_. Mabel looks up at him, his eyes stare at the rough, mud-colored carpet beneath their feet, a distant look clouded over them, “I voluntarily gave up my freedom.” 

A small, shock filled gasp, “How- what, why?” She leans toward him, eyes wide, forgetting that maybe she shouldn’t intrude on the personal space of a probably emotionally and physically abused assassin.

Malum stiffens again, leaning away, the fondness draining from his aura, his voice going emotionless again, “I had to. I needed to protect my sister.” 

A quick apology escapes her lips, recollecting herself as well. Her eyes snap up in surprise, “You have a sister?” 

“Used to. She and the rest of my family are dead.” His voice has gone cold, his eyes once again turning to the window, watching the clouds pass overhead as the RV speeds along. 

Mabel winces, internally slapping herself. She doesn’t apologize, knowing that probably would just annoying Malum further. Hoping to lighten the mood, she asks playfully, “So… Malum, can I call you May?” 

He glances back at her, curiosity blazing in the warm, mahogany orbs. He stares at her, then his lips twitch slightly at the corner. His voice has reverted back to the emotionless one of manners and politeness, making Mabel internally wince, “If that would please you, Lady Mabel, then you may call me whatever you wish.” 

She can’t control the slight giggle that escapes her lips, “Okay, _May_ , but please, just call me Mabel. No… ‘Miss’ or ‘Lady’ or anything.” 

Malum just nods, eyes softening a fraction. He looks at the family still sitting at the front. “Wouldn’t you rather be talking to them? I’m certain they would be more entertaining.” 

The brunette shakes her head, looking over at her family fondly, murmuring, “No... I've spent the last seven years glued to their side… so I want to talk to you.” Mabel looks back at Malum, “So… what was your favorite thing to do… you know, before the whole end of the world dealio?”

May lets a small huff escape his lips, and first, Mabel thinks she’s annoying him and is about to apologize, but then she notices his aura. A spark of amusement blooms, before being crushed by the gray nothingness. “Before… I enjoyed… I don’t quite remember… I-I…” His brows furrow underneath the mask, eyes crinkling in frustration. 

_I’m going to kill Bill_ , Mabel can feel her blood boiling. What did that triangular jerk do to this kid, that he doesn’t even remember what he enjoys doing in his spare time? Mabel purses her rosy lips, before smiling, “Well, do you wanna… I don’t know, watch a rom-com on the TV in the back?”

Mahogany orbs stare at her again, and Mabel can’t help but feel she isn’t the only one using magic to snoop. Malum’s eyes just seem to be able to gaze into the depths of her soul, but she can’t read any signs of ill intent in the depths, so she doesn’t call him out. “Why are you acting this way?” Malum’s voice comes out a raw, broken whisper, losing the shield of properness that had been masking it before. 

The young woman shrugs, eyes dropping to her lap, “I don’t know. You probably haven’t had any nice company or friends in a long time, right?” No response, “Well, I just figure, maybe you need that… And again, it’s nice talking to someone new every once in awhile.” 

The assassin watches her carefully, then nods, “Okay. Just no Jane Austen.” 

Mabel’s mouth falls open, a grin brightening her features, “Oh my gosh, let’s go. And deal, I don’t think we have any of her stuff anyway, though Mr. Darcy is to die for.” The brunette carefully reaches for and grabs his hand, looking at him with a grin, before pulling him to his feet. Once they’re standing, she lets go, feeling how he’s stiffened beneath her touch. Mabel leads him to a small cove at the very back that is literally just cushions and a TV they had taken from an abandoned Walmart. She glances back at Malum, who’s kneeling on the floor, hands on his knees, “I haven’t gotten to watch these with _anyone_ for way too long. How ‘bout _‘You’ve Got Mail’_?” 

Malum nods slightly, “Anything you want, I will be fine as long as you are happy.” Mabel frowns, about to reply, but he continues in a quiet voice, “Besides… I think I liked that movie…”

The smile instantly returns to Mabel’s rosy lips. She inserts the disc, then flops down, patting the spot next to her, “Perfect. Let’s do this!” She pumps her fists in the air when Malum shifts to kneel closer to her side, not touching her, but still fairly close. She can see him study her out of the corner of her eyes, his gaze showing caution and uncertainty. Mabel pretends to not notice, instead focusing on the screen, and soon, he does too. 

The pair are about forty minutes into the movie, when Mabel freezes, a wave of frightened realization settling over her. The RV has stopped moving, and is dead silent apart from the movie. Softly, to not spook the assassin, Mabel taps his knee. Malum’s head snaps to her face, eyes full of fear until he remembers what’s happening and who he is with. He tips his head to the side when Mabel presses a finger to her lips, pausing the movie and rising to her feet. She steps out of the cove, looking up to the front of the RV, and freezes. 

Her family is giving her the death stare, their gaze making her feel like she’s on fire with the amount of rage alight in them. Their faces are pale, postures stiff, though they relax slightly at the sight of her. Ford and Wendy start forward, marching to Mabel. Ford pulls her against his chest and retreats to Stan and Soos, niece in tow. Wendy however, storms toward Malum, who had also come out of the hideaway out of curiosity. 

_“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU PLAYING AT, HUH?_ ” The redhead screeches, gripping her axe sharply. Mabel can see Malum visibly tense, a hand slowly moving to grip the handle of a knife. Eyes widening, Mabel frees herself from her uncles embrace. 

“Wait, stop!” She screams, diving in between the older woman and the assassin. Mabel holds a hand out on the chest of both of them. “Wait, we were just watching a movie! He was only back there with me because I asked him to watch the movie with me!”

Wendy lets out a feral growl, Ford now behind her in support, dark hatred burning in their eyes. The woman who Mabel considers to be an older sister snaps, “Mabel, get the fuck away from that monster, he’s dangerous.” 

Mabel frantically shakes her head, “Sure, but so are we, and he won’t do anything _unless provoked and this is pretty provoking so go sit down_.” She begs the two, eyes frantically darting between them. 

Ford shakes his head, burning orbs never leaving Malum’s, “Mabel get away from him. _Now_.” 

Stan steps in next to Mabel, a hand firmly placed on her shoulder, “Okay, everyone, let’s calm down.” Ford and Wendy look at Stan in shock, their faces contorting in disbelief. Mabel watches her uncle, “Mabel obviously doesn’t feel threatened by him, so let’s not do anything rash. Besides, if we do anything to him, Bill will surely get pissed.” 

“But Stan-” 

“No, he hasn’t done anything. That’s final. We only stopped because we were worried about Mabel. And look,” He turns, gesturing to Mabel, “She’s fine. We can return to our travels.” 

Slowly, the two retreat, still throwing dirty looks at the assassin who rests safely behind the wall of Pines. Mabel looks up at Stan, “Thanks… He really isn’t doing anything bad. We were just watching _You’ve Got Mail_.” He looks at her, his maple irises that mirror her own are swirling with disbelief and skepticism, “I’m serious.” 

Stan pulls her a few feet away from Malum, “Mabel, don’t trust him. I don’t care how nice or friendly he seems, he doesn’t actually care about you, or me, or this family. He will remain loyal to Bill till the end. However,” Stan drops his whisper, his voice just barely audible, “If you can get him to trust you, do it. We might be able to use him.” 

Mabel frowns, “First of all, that's not very nice. If I can extend a hand of friendship to him, I will do just that. And why would we be using him?”

Stan glances back at Malum, who has wandered back to the cove and is kneeling stiffly on the cushions again, “Because, he might know where Dipper is.” 


	4. What Time has Done

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dipper goes through some slight interrogation. Ford makes a dick move, resulting in Dark!Dipper/Assassin!Dipper's official appearance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I'm happy I was able to get this up as soon as I did, because, sadly, I doubt I'll get another chapter up until the weekend. I have had an extremely busy week, with a lot of homework, an upcoming theater production, and also a science project that's going to take some time. So, I'm going to be a little slower in the updates (maybe, I'm going to try and get the chapters up frequently) until Saturday, which I will hopefully be able to dedicate to writing another chapter, as well as some of Sunday. Luckily, I don't think next week will be nearly as hectic, but I just wanted everyone to be aware.  
> Anyway, enjoy the chapter!  
> NOTE: there is some gore/violence in this chapter, so be aware of that if you're squeamish, I don't think it's that bad.

**Dipper**

Dipper is glad when the movie ends. It isn’t that he dislikes Mabel’s company, but her unfamiliar magic- that has been probing at him since she first woke him up- is making him feel light-headed and nauseous. As happy as the young assassin is to be away from Bill and the affections he provides… he misses the weight of the demon’s magic that he has grown used to cloaking him like a protective blanket. Now, Dipper is ‘blanketless’ and surrounded by hostile magic. It feels like the entire world is leaning on his lungs, crushing all the air out, and it’s all Dipper can do to not hyperventilate. And the confrontation earlier certainly didn’t help. He’s surprised he hadn’t stabbed Wendy when she had raised her voice; yelling usually results in him switching to a more defensive mode. 

Mabel’s grinning happily as she grabs the remote, turning the TV off. “Well, that was fun!” she says, turning to grin at him. Dipper watches her grin morph into a frown, her eyes glittering with worry. “Hey,” the girl leans toward him, and Dipper immediately straightens, rising to his feet and shifting away, putting more than three feet between them. Mabel’s brows furrow more, “Are you okay, Malum? Do you need some water or something?” 

He frantically shakes his head, barely gasping out, “I-I’m fine. I just need to catch my breath, I apologize.” 

The brunette’s gaze is burning into Dipper as he desperately attempts to bring more air into his lungs, to calm his fast-paced heart and nerves. Mabel watches him for several more seconds, then shrugs, “Okay, well, I’m going to go talk with my family up front. You… do whatever, I guess.” 

Dipper just resumes frantically nodding, backing into a corner to avoid contact with the girl while she passes. Mabel glances back at him once more, eyes full of concern and questions, but she just strolls up to the front. She takes a seat next to Wendy and Soos on the floor, everyone looking at her with relief, some tension leaving their shoulders now that she is no longer alone with him. 

Dipper moves to retake his window seat from earlier, confirming with a glance out the tinted glass that the day is nearly done. The sky is painted a warm whiskey-gold, the color shifting to deep shades of orange and red where the sun kisses the earth. Overall, in comparison to everything Dipper has seen in the past seven years, it's very unspectacular. _Wow, look at you,_ Dipper nearly shivers at the traitorous voice ringing around his skull, _already bored with sunsets. Just who do you think you are?_ The assassin shakes his head, trying to rid his mind of the sound. 

Hoping to distract himself, Dipper brings his hands up to make a cup, holding them close to his chest. With a quiet mutter, a golden flame sparks to life, making gentle fluttering sounds like that of a bird’s wings while in flight. He smiles softly, then closes his eyes, magic reaching out to Mabel. It takes a minute, for Dipper to find what he’s looking for, but when he does the fire flashes to a light magenta. He continues with that exercise, directing his attention from one person to the next, the flame bleeding a new color to match that of their auras. Dipper chews at his already raw lip, trying to focus on himself this time, but when his mahogany orbs peek at his palms, the flame been leeched of all color, now a lifeless, monochrome gray. The young man frowns, more than a little disappointed, then rubs his hands together to kill the spark. 

”That was some trick, Spook.” an old worn voice says softly. 

The assassin’s head whips up, one hand darting down to grip the handle of a blade at his waist. Stan stands an arm length away from the booth, a can of soda in one hand, eyes watching the young man’s face. Dipper forces himself to relax slightly, still strict in posture, “Oh. Thank you, it wasn’t anything impressive though.” 

Shrugging, Stan slides into the seat across from Dipper’s. “Well,” the rough voice starts again, “Not many people your age are very talented in magic.” The older man takes a swig of the beverage, eyes thoughtful, “Bill teach you some stuff?” 

“Yes, Master Cipher has taught me magic over the time I have served him.” 

Stan pulls a face- one that is usually associated with bad smells or tastes- at the title used for the loathsome demon. The man coughs, “So, am I right in assuming the bastard trusts you?” 

Dipper stills at the term used, trying not to react, his voice tight as he responds, “No, my master doesn’t trust me, sadly.” Stan raises skeptical eyebrows, so Dipper elaborates, “When I was younger and arrogant… I tried to escape more times than I can count or wish to remember. Luckily for me, Master Cipher does not hold my records against me, but he does prefer to keep an eye on me.”

The man Dipper once considered to be his uncle grimaces again at the praises. He takes another sip, “Right… so were you the only... _student_ he took on?” 

His eyes trail out the window, avoiding the older man’s gaze, “...No. Master Cipher adopted a large class of apprentices when he began his reign seven years ago. The group was drastically narrowed down in size over time to a more manageable group of maybe twenty or so, and then again until only the elite remained. I was one of them.” Dipper can feel his chest grow heavy, and he takes a deep breath before he continues to ensure he doesn’t choke up, “However, only two of the elite apprentices are still around, me and another human boy.” 

Stan narrows his eyes, confusion shadowing the hard maple orbs, “So what about the other two assassins he has on your crew then?” 

The young assassin shakes his head slightly, “No, my associates are old acquaintances of Master Cipher’s who are in great debt of him. They, however, did not possess anything of my master’s interests when he went to collect what they owed him, so he took their permanent servitude instead.” 

Dipper’s company gives a stiff nod, hand rubbing his jaw in a thoughtful manner. Neither say anything for a while, Dipper growing more and more uncomfortable and nervous by the minute. He continues to avoid Stan’s gaze, mostly out of guilt and shame. Dipper knows he has no reason to feel guilty, but he has always hated the thought of his family seeing him for what he has become. _A monster_ , the voice has returned, cooing darkly, _that’s what you are, a monster_ Dipper can barely suppress the shiver the voice sends down his spine. _If Mabel knew this is what you had become, she would_ \- “How many?” 

The young brunet jumps slightly in his seat, the deep, grumbling voice chasing away the dark voice. His head whips back to look at the man seated across from him, eyes flashing behind his mask. Dipper blinks in confusion, “I’m sorry?”

“You said Bill took a bunch of kids for his experiments-” 

“For _apprenticeships_.” Dipper immediately corrects. The voice snickers, _oh, is that what you call those afternoons? I think ‘experiments’ is more fitting, after all, what did we learn? How to shut up real well and-_

Stanley glares slightly at him, “Okay, yeah, yeah, whatever. You said there were more. How many?” 

Dipper glances at his hands, thinking briefly about his former classmates, “Hmm… I think there were seventy, but eleven were killed within the first day. It continued like that for a couple of weeks until it was the top twenty. Then the real training began.” 

Maple eyes flash with worry and concern, then cloud over with anger and disbelief, “Wait, _eleven in one day_? Why the hell did he even bother with them then?” 

The brunet just shrugs, “Master Cipher chose the original seventy because we all displayed promising traits he was searching for. The first eleven to go served as an example to the rest of us; commit treason, you’re out. They had too much uncontrollable fire for Master Cipher’s liking.” Dipper doubts his face shows any signs of remorse, based on the look Stanley is giving him. 

“Right…” Stanley stares at his now empty can. Slowly, he rises to his feet, glancing wearily at Dipper, “Well, I-uh, I’m gonna go back to check in on our progress towards the lookout point. You just-um, do… whatever you do…” 

The assassin takes some mental notes as he watches the man walk away; Stan no longer hunches over and appears to be physically fit, so he wouldn’t be an easy opponent in a fight. He also appears to have become more aware of body language, based on the way he studied Dipper the entire conversation, treading lightly when Dipper had tensed. Then again, it looks like the entire family had succumbed to the caution and weariness of the apocalypse. Not that Dipper blames them. Not only do the remaining survivors have to deal with normal monsters, there’s Bill and also other _people_ in general. Never can be too careful when lending your trust to someone. 

The RV doesn’t stop bumbling along until the sun has set and risen. Dipper gazes out the window with tired eyes, mahogany gaze fondly studying the soft lilac, warm peach, and crisp yellow watercolor stretching across the canvas of a sky, delicate cotton-like clouds in the distance. He hopes Mabel rises in time to witness it. Even through all the years, he’s never failed to notice the small and big things alike that would have Mabel giddy in a matter of seconds. 

Dipper slinks to the front as Ford shifts the RV into park, tapping the scientist lightly on the shoulder. Stanford jolts, whipping around to stare at Dipper, maple eyes immediately hardening. “I apologize, it was not my intention to scare you.” Dipper whispers, staying quiet in hopes of not waking the tired Pines, “But I will be heading outside for a spell, I am in need of some fresh air.” Ford gives a short, stiff nod, gaze trailing the assassin as he tiptoes to the door. 

He closes the door gently, then Dipper slides to the floor, turning to press his back into the RV. The brunet places his head gently into his crossed arms, staring out at the thick surrounding forest from over his knees. A breeze ruffles his thick rusty-brown hair, lulling him to relax enough that he misses the small click sound in the door behind him. Once the wind rests, Dipper can focus in on his surroundings. Frowning, he tilts his head, listening intently to the sounds of the forest- or rather the lack of sound. Eyes widening, Dipper scrambles to his feet, spinning around and yankin- his eyes widen. The door is locked, not budging in his attempts to pull it free. 

The assassin pounds at the door, but there’s no response. Dipper frantically murmurs a spell, hand resting over the lock, but another attempt to open the door shows it was no use. Figures, Stanford probably had this thing protected so enemies can’t enter. Dipper’s head snaps to his left as a deep, guttural growl sounds from the thick undergrowth roughly fifteen meters away. Dipper’s hands remain calm, not a tremor passing through as they brush through the air. He’s more miffed than worried. _Well this is going to be annoying_ , Dipper thinks bitterly, _a complete waste of time._ His hands slip into the storage dimension he uses as a safe for his different weapons and armor, pulling out two forearm length daggers.

The metal of both is an obsidian black, silver hilts fitting perfectly to Dipper’s gloved hands. The assassin slows his breathing, closing his eyes, and when he reopens them thirty second later, the once mahogany irises are a soft glowing magenta, the triangles on his mask glowing the same color. A small smirk plays across his lips as he moves with careful, precise movements to the edge of the woods. 

Out of the corner of his eye, Dipper spots the first beast with a slight grin, a noxterrum, and a large one at that, streaking towards him, muscles rippling underneath the needlelike fur. Dipper darts up the tall oak tree directly in front of him, maneuvering from branch to branch, tree to tree, faster than a human is capable of. The magenta eyes peek over his right shoulder, grip on the daggers tightening. There are four of the monsters on his trail, orange eyes gleaming at their ‘prey’, jaws hanging open, revealing rows of razor sharp teeth, all heavily dripping with saliva. Disgusting, they need to be eradicated. 

Dipper twists, throwing a punch squarely into the jaw of one, sending it sprawling to the floor. Releasing one dagger, he directs it with magic, plunging it through the chest of another with a sickening _crack_. The dagger flies out the back, a large veiny heart impaled, oozing thick scarlet blood as the noxterrum drops heavily, body thudding against several branches on its way down. The weapon flies back to the assassin’s outstretched hand as he ducks under one of the monsters, pushing off a branch to twist and fly past the smallest one. A loud, earsplitting shriek rings out into the woods as the creature’s stomach is split open, blood spraying and splattering against Dipper’s face. He briefly stops on a high branch, surveying the remaining threats below. 

There are only two of the violent creatures below, the others now corpses on the forest floor. Dipper wipes the blood on his cheek, magenta eyes flicking back to the current threats, which pace angrily on a couple of the stronger branches below. Dipper’s going to have to be careful, the larger one is roughly the size of a smart car, if not a bit longer. An eerie grin splits his face, this will be easy compared to everything Bill has thrown at him. 

After he takes one more deep breath, the assassin drops from his branch, throwing one dagger to his left, listening with satisfaction as the blade buries itself with a dull thud into the skull of the smaller monster, which cries out briefly before slumping against the branch. Dipper turns to his last target, the largest of the four, though a second too late as it slams into him, a large clawed paw raking across his chest, knocking him off the branch onto one below. The brunet lands on his back, the air leaving his lungs, leaving Dipper to gasp sharply, clumsily scrambling, hands reaching for the twin blades that have escaped his grip. 

Glowing magenta eyes train themselves on the terror that drops to a branch that’s a leap away from his own. Dipper raises his hands quickly, a fiery indigo orb blasting towards the beast, slamming it back into a thick tree trunk. He swiftly sets his feet, carefully angled as he bends his knees, the glow in the depths of his eyes brightening, sparks flickering in the bright irises, as he mutters the incantation, “ _Apud inferos mille soles igni!_ ”. Magenta flames blaze around his hands, and with a pushing motion, a powerful beam of the magic fire strikes the beast, setting it aflame. Dipper dismisses the flames with a flick of his fingers, the glowing orbs reflecting disgust as well as satisfaction as they watch the creature flail and writhe in pain, slowly burning until it collapses, the last breath exiting its lungs. 

Dipper brushes off his clothes, removing any dirt and grime he collected on the extravaganza, then checks himself for any injuries. Only minor scratches, apart from the fairly deep gashes stretching across his ribs, which ooze blood. Dipper grunts as he leaps to the floor, stepping over the bodies as he starts his trek back to the RV, if it’s still there. 

The RV is still there, in fact, and several of the Pines are out in the clearing. It appears Mabel has grown worried in the time Dipper’s been missing, because she is on the edge of the undergrowth, calling out, “Malum! Malum, where are you?” The others are giving halfhearted searches, probably more relieved than worried by his absence. As he steps into sight, Mabel’s face brightens, tension leaving her muscles for a second, then her eyes are wide with worry and shock at the sight of blood on his face and the marks on his chest. “Oh my god, what happened?” the brunette shrieks, sprinting toward him.

Before she touches him, Dipper holds out a hand, keeping her at arm's length from him. The assassin turns, glaring at Ford with once again mahogany eyes, though they are now cold, icy and fiery at the same time, “Would you care to explain why you locked me out, and then proceeded to leave me out here when I frantically knocked for you to allow me inside?” 

Mabel gasps, turning to face her great uncle, who stands near the RV door. Despite the shocked faces, Ford’s face stays stony and unrevealing, “I didn’t hear any knocking.”

Dipper doesn’t push further, anger slowly ebbing away to pain. He stumbles, but before he falls there are bodies on both sides of him, gently supporting him under the arms. Mabel is whispering reassuring words on his right, while Stanley glares at Ford on his left. They walk with him for about five minutes, arriving at a large two story house resting on top of a cleared hill. It has that sort of warm cabin feel to it, with wood paneling and slanted roof, two stone chimneys rising from the square shingles on two opposite ends. 

Once they’re through the large front door, Stanley looks at the two, “Alright, Mabel, you take Spook to the spare room upstairs, let him get cleaned up and everything. Then we’ll begin our search for the crystals. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys enjoyed! Comments are always welcome, I love reading what you guys think and have to say! <3
> 
> Translate:  
> Apud inferos mille soles igni - Burn with the fire of one thousand suns in hell


	5. The Effects of One's Choice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> MORE Flashbacks *yay* this time, Mabel's POV of the fateful day seven years ago. Dipper feels guilty, and so does Stan, but for different reasons.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I meant to get this up yesterday, but I was exhausted and having some trouble writing the flashback, so I took a break, and finished it up today. I'm glad there's been such a positive response to Dipper's character (especially the assassin side) and don't worry, he will be returning in the near future.

**Mabel**

Mabel’s fuming, her boot tapping against the wooden flooring in a fast, harsh rhythm. She had taken Malum up to the guest room on the third floor, given him supplies to cleanup, then had returned to the second level to change and freshen up herself. Under normal circumstances, she would be happy, having just taken a shower after going without one for several weeks, but the events of this morning chased away any bliss. 

“How could Ford act so heartless?” The brunette huffs as soon as Stan enters the kitchen, a crate of supplies in his arms. 

“Let’s not jump to conclusions. Maybe he really didn’t hear the kid knock.” Stan reassures his niece, but Mabel can easily read the uncertainty and doubt swirling in bright, cautious shades of orange in his aura. 

Mabel rolls her eyes, letting out an annoyed hiss, “Well how are we ever going to earn his trust if Wendy and Ford are out to get him?” 

Stan’s maple gaze rests on her, a frown pulling at his lips, “We’ll have to talk to them about that,” Her uncle raises an eyebrow, a mischievous glint shining in his eyes, “Though, I have to say, you seem really attached to the kid. You better not fall for him like you did _Roger_.” 

The young woman groans at her uncle’s teasing, head thumping against the table, “Shut up! I am not in love with Malum. I-” 

A playful grin lights up the older man’s face as he cackles, “Wait, you actually know Spook’s name? I mean, I was joking before, but the evidence is piling against you, sweetie. You going to be announcing a first date any time soon?” 

She shoots a fiery glare in his direction as she grits out, “ _For your information,_ trading names is a strategy in building a strong trust between people. So I did,” Mabel pauses, Stanley’s heaving laughter interrupting her. She rolls her eyes again, but this time as more of a playful gesture, “And for the record, I _was not_ in love with Roger. I mean, yeah we dated around for a while, but that was _before_ I found out he was a shapeshifter that wanted to eat Ford’s brain.” 

Stanley’s laughter dies down, though he continues to hum with amusement. Mabel watches her uncle begin sorting the supplies- food, water, medical supplies, bedding- into the cabinets, removing some of the older stuff left from the last time they were up here a couple of months ago. The brunette slides to her feet, grabbing a white, fluffy feather duster and begins cleaning the room. 

Just as the pair finish up their tasks, Ford, Soos, and Wendy enter the room, arms wrapped around more supplies. The quiet discussion between the three ends when they take notice of Mabel and Stanley. 

Everyone stares at each other awkwardly for several minutes. Finally, Wendy breaks the silence, “Okay, Mabel, look we know you’re mad, but-” 

“Mad?” Mabel shrieks, storming up to the ginger, eyes blazing, “I’m furious!”

Ford intervenes, gently pushing the two women apart, sighing tiredly, “Mabel, will you please just listen to my reasoning, for one second?” The brunette doesn’t respond, but her eyes are ice cold and bore into Ford’s own from behind his glasses. The scientist clears his throat, “You need to understand, that while both you and Stanley seem to be turning a blind eye to what this young man is, I am just trying to protect this family from a threat.” 

Mabel’s scowl deepens, but Stan replies before she can, “Ford, we get that the kid is a threat, however, we also recognize that he may be our chance to get back at a certain triangular bastard.” 

This time it’s Wendy who pounces on them, her aura flashing with fear, “Are you two insane? If we even try to get that kid to do or say anything against Cipher, he would probably run back to the dorito and get us all killed.” 

The brunette parries the auburn's argument, hope shining in a trace of tears, “No, none of you have ever talked to him. I’m not pretending to know him, but I do know there is still a human in there. And maybe,” Mabel takes a deep breath, glancing at the ground, “Maybe we can get to that part of him.” 

Both Soos and Wendy seem to have softened, but Ford just shakes his head, “Mabel, it’s too big a risk to be taking. Even if we could get through to the more human side of him, Bill still has control over him, whether he likes it or not.” 

There’s silence for a minute, the air filled with tension. A low, very tight growl comes from behind Mabel, “Wendy, Soos, would you mind leaving us for a minute?” 

Mabel turns to look at her uncle as the pair exit. Stan’s face is stony, jaw clenched tightly, and when she takes a peek at his aura it’s a jumble of pain, anger, annoyance, and something else the brunette can’t quite place. Once they’re alone, Stanley continues, voice barely above a whisper, “Ford, this kid might be our only lead in finding Dipper.” 

Ford rubs his eyes tiredly, glancing at his twin over the top of cracked lenses, “Stanley, I understand that, but-” 

Stanley stubbornly shakes his head, “No. In this argument, you’re the only one who isn’t aware of how painful it is to lose your twin, your best friend, and not even know if they’re alive or not.” His voice cracks at the end, and Mabel moves to hug the older man, tucking her head under his chin. 

The scientist stays quiet, probably at a loss for words. “Alright, I’ll be easier on him, but I’m not letting my guard down.” he says quietly, concern filling his hazel gaze. 

Mabel gives her uncle a tight squeeze before releasing him from the embrace. She looks between the two, realizing she should probably give them some space when a bomb like that had just been dropped. She clears her throat, earning the attention of both her uncles, “I’m gonna go check on Malum… make sure he isn’t too badly injured from earlier or anything…” Receiving a nod from the pair, she turns and heads upstairs. 

**Dipper**

Dipper dresses the scratches across his chest gently, wincing when the gauze moves against the deep gashes. They aren’t the worst he’s gotten, but definitely not the easiest to deal with either. The one thing that frustrates him about his healing magic, he can use it on other people with outstanding results, but it’s virtually useless on himself. The only benefit that directly affects him is the shortened time it takes to heal, but even that isn't immediate and will take some time. 

The assassin turns, eyeing the clothes he had summoned earlier from the storage dimension. A black turtleneck sweater that has a yellow brick print at the bottom and fitted stormy gray cargo jeans. He slips the pants on and moves, grabbing the sweater, his back to the door. Before he slips it on, the door creaks open loudly. 

“Hey everything going oka- OHMYGOSH I’M SORRY!” Mabel shrieks from behind him, and Dipper can feel himself panicking. His eyes dart to his mask, which is laying on the chest across the room from him. _Dammit_. 

Dipper swallows thickly, still not moving. “It’s fine.” 

He’s met with silence, and for a moment Dipper thinks the young Pines has left, but a voice pipes up, amusement obvious, “Umm… Is that a shooting star tattoo on your back?” 

“What- oh, yes it is.” The assassin smiles faintly at the floor, he’d almost forgot it was there. On his lower back there is a thin outline of an elegant shooting star, with watercolor style coloring in soft pinks, purples, and blues, the star itself a gentle yellow. 

He can here the girl snort, the door clicking shut, “So… why do you have a shooting star tattoo? You don’t seem like the kind of guy to like frilly things.” 

“I… got it a few years ago… as a reminder of a dear friend. She liked all things sparkly and cuddly, especially shooting stars.” It isn't a complete lie. The tattoo was originally something of a reminder of Mabel, but he guesses it can work for his friend too... The assassin’s voice is soft, eyes training themselves on the black fabric in his hands. 

A gentle hum drifts from over his shoulder, and he can hear Mabel’s feet pad softly against the floor as she approaches him, “Can I take a closer look at it?” Dipper nods, flinching when soft fingers gently trace the picture, “What happened to your friend?” 

Eyes squeezing shut, Dipper forces his voice into a comfortable monotone, “She passed away a couple of years ago.” 

“Oh… I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bring up sore memories or anything.” There’s a thoughtful pause, and Dipper can almost hear the gears turning in the brunette’s head. “I mean, I get why you would want to do that. I have a tattoo of a pine tree on my left shoulder blade, because my twin brother… he wore a trucker’s hat that had a blue pine tree on it.” 

Dipper blinks in surprise, almost turning to look at Mabel, but thankfully, he manages to stop himself, “If you wouldn’t mind my intrusion… what happened to your brother?” 

His question is met with silence and then a soft sigh, “Well…” 

**Seven Years Ago: Mabel**

_Mabel couldn’t meet her brother’s worried gaze when he had hurried over to her side. He was probably angry with her for choosing to listen to Grunkle Stan rather than him, her own twin brother. She nods to appease Dipper’s worried, rapidfire questions._

_Her head is pounding, and the heavy clouds of dust is making her eyes water. Mabel’s vaguely aware of Soos hovering over them like a mother hen, and she really just needs some space. The brunette tries desperately to stay awake and watch whatever is happening with the portal, but her vision is darkening rapidly, soon fading completely as exhaustion overtakes her mind._

_Mabel raises her scratched and dirtied hands to rub tiredly at her eyes as she yawns. The young girl freezes, eyes widening at the sight of her twin, limp and unmoving, underneath a certain dream demon they had encountered earlier in the summer months._

_The young brunette sits there, frozen like a deer caught in headlights, wide eyes glued to her brother. What finally shakes her out of her gaze is a soft, but heavy, hand settling on her shoulder, her frightened gaze snapping to the figure above her._

_It surprises her that the hand doesn’t belong to Grunkle Stan or Soos, as they had been the only two adults present when she had fainted, but Mabel feels a small ripple of relief that it isn’t Bill Cipher either. The figure has a billowing black cape fastened over their clothing, a large pair of goggles and a scarf covering their face. A gloved finger comes to rest over where she assumes their mouth to be, the other hand moving to gently grip Mabel’s. The figure carefully leads the brunette over to where Grunkle Stan lies unconscious on his side, leaning over him to check his pulse and breathing._

_Mabel reaches out, nudging his shoulder until he groggily blinks his eyes open, attention shifting to the two people above him. Stan quickly sits up, pulling Mabel into a tight, comforting embrace. “Oh thank- wait, where’s your brother?” Her uncle says shakily, eyes widening and filling with worry when he notices the lack of her twin brother. The aged maple irises dart up to the stranger, who is watching the interaction with a curious tilt of their head._

_With a shaking hand, Mabel points, directing their attention to the unconscious boy and the demon who appears to have started performing some ritual. The portal has began to vibrate, producing a loud humming sound, flickering between different colors faster with each passing second._

_The new acquaintance rips the scarf from their face, an urgent voice much like her uncle’s, though much richer in tone with less of a growl, pipes up, “We need to get out of here. This place won’t be around much longer with the ritual he’s performing.”_

_Mabel looks up at the figure, eyes watering, “But we need to save Dipper first. Please.”_

_Though she can’t see their eyes, Mabel can feel the burning gaze from behind the goggles. A reluctant nod, then they turn, slowly creeping towards the demon and boy. It’s only when he’s around two meters away that the triangular demon turns around, back to the portal, “I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Sixer.”_

_Grunkle Stan murmurs, “Stay here, pumpkin. I’ll be right back. Promise.” Then, he carefully moves to stand a little ways behind the stranger, who has frozen, a large hand stretched out towards Dipper._

_“Just let the boy go, Bill. You don’t need him for this ceremony.”_

_An annoying, high pitched laugh rings out, though slightly muffled by the portal’s determined humming, “Sure, I don’t need the kid. But we have a deal.” The demon’s eye flashes to a piercing, neon blue word at ‘deal’, “Part of which says I will allow you nuisances to leave without a scratch purposefully placed on your fair heads. However, if you don’t mind your own business, I may just have to…_ break that deal. Now run along, while you still can.”

_Mabel darts forward, crying out, “Dipper would never make a deal with you, Bill! Especially not after the last time!”_

_Two heads whip to look at the girl, Stan’s face riddled with worry and confusion, “Wait, last time…?”_

_The floating triangle gives a hum of agreement, “Well, sure. But if I learned anything after watching you two over the summer- and you should have realized this too- it’s that there is_ nothing _your dear brother wouldn’t do for you... “ Mabel’s eyes widen with an understanding horror, her brain racing to reach the conclusion she knows his statement to mean, “So if I was, say, to threaten the weak life force that keeps your heart pumping inside your fragile chest, he would willingly hand himself over on a_ silver platter _if it meant your safety.”_

_Sinking to her knees, the brunette manages to whisper a broken sob of, “No… h-he wouldn’t…” Tears slip down her pink-blotched cheeks, maple irises that are usually bright with laughter and excitement strangely dark and dull, lacking their normal spark and life._

_Grunkle Stan crouches next to her, a strong arm wrapping around her protectively, pulling her to his side. Bill just laughs again, and Mabel is certain if the stupid triangle had a mouth he would be grinning, “Oh, come on, don’t tell me you didn’t notice how the kid would drop everything to help you or make you happy. And what did you ever do in return? **Nothing.** So selfish… Well, anyway, I’ll just be taking the nuisance off your hands, so now run along, before I release a bunch of monsters on you.” _

_In her peripheral vision, Mabel sees the figure nod to Stan, who scoops her up in his thick arms. The two hurry out the room, young niece in tow, and are no sooner in the kitchen collecting food that they hear a large bang come from below. Mr. Stranger slides a large, hazardous looking gun off his back, aiming it at the doorway. Soos- whom they had met up with at some point, Mabel doesn’t remember when as she is still in a daze over a shattered heart and defeat- has two boxes full of supplies stacked in his arms. The four of them head out to the Stan-Mobile, climbing in and driving away, the Mystery Shack fading in the distance._

**Dipper**

Dipper’s fingers pick at the edge of his sweater- which he had slipped on as Mabel had begun her story- guilt clawing mercilessly at his heart. There’s something in his eyes, or at least something blurring his vision, and the assassin’s eyes widen when his fingers reveal that there are wet tears brimming on the edge of his eyes. Quietly, he draws in a deep breath, then manages, “I am sorry for your loss.” 

There’s a loud sniff and a shaky breath from behind him, “Well, it isn’t your fault, Malum. It’s the fudging dorito’s fault,” A faint smile tugs at the assassin’s lips. Dipper guesses the girl never grew out of her childish alternatives, not that it bothers him. 

The assassin stiffens when a pair of arms wrap around him, a head resting on his shoulder. It’s only when a loud, broken sob meets his ears that he relaxes, if only slightly. The pair stay like that for several minutes, all the while Dipper is trying not to crawl out of his skin and away from the unfamiliar touch. The only thing stopping him at this point is the fact that he knows it’s his fault the Pines girl is emotional. Finally, she pulls away, rubbing at her eyes, and Dipper restrains a sigh of relief, “I’m sorry, Malum. I just needed a hug, didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” 

Dipper gives a short nod, eyes darting to his mask again, “It is no problem, Mabel, just please inform me the next time you wish to initiate contact.” He internally winces at the monotone. _Way to go_ , the voice in his head sighs, _now you sound like a heartless bastard_. He clears his throat, “Would you mind turning around? I wish to retrieve my mask…” 

There’s surprise in the voice behind him, “Oh my god, I’m sorry! I didn’t realize your face was naked this entire time!” Dipper internally snorts as he listens to the shuffle of her feet while she turns around to face the door. He darts over to the mask, fastening it onto his face before letting out a sigh of relief, “Thank you, you may turn around once more.” 

Mabel turns around, looking him over, then grinning slightly, “Again, sorry about that. And wow, this is quite a change from the previous look. You seem cuddlier now.”

The assassin lets out a small huff, “I can assure you, I am not cuddly.” He frowns when the young woman enters a fit of giggles, “I’m not.” 

The giggling dies down as the brunette clears her throat, but her eyes still glitter with silent laughter, “Okay, okay. The hugging kinda proved that to be true anyway,” She pauses, briefly glancing at the floor before resuming, though her voice now much more shy, “Um… if you wouldn’t mind me asking.. In your time with Bill, did you ever come across or hear of a Dipper Pines?”

Dipper’s heart drops. “No.” he internally curses, the response having been too quick to sound truthful. 

Mabel's gaze critically searches his face, but then the brunette just shrugs, turning to look back at the door, “Alright, I thought it might have been worth checking, but thanks anyway.” Mabel smiles kindly back at him, and Dipper’s heart clenches again with guilt- which is now accompanied by anguish and sorrow- and he gives a weak nod in acknowledgement. She heads toward the door, “Hey, you should come down, we’re gonna be looking into those crystals fairly soon. We could use your input.” 

The brunet swallows thickly, “Of course, Mabel. I will do everything in my power to give you the information and assistance you need.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope everyone enjoyed the freshly baked angst, and I hope you guys enjoyed the latest chapter! The next chapter will be up by Wednesday, at the latest.


	6. Who's the Real Demon Here?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The search begins. And Dipper is slightly insane.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am really sorry guys, I promised to get the chapter to you by yesterday, but I've gotten really sick over the week (my theater class is calling it the 'drama plague' because everyone has it) so I tried to work on the chapter but that didn't work out too well... So I wrapped up this chapter and I finally got my editors to read it .-.  
> Anyway, enjoy!

**Dipper**

As they enter the dining room, Dipper’s eyes flick to a large map that is spread over the table. It shows the entire North American continent, with great detail going into the physical features. He runs his fingers over the soft, crinkly surface, his attentive gaze flitting to the spot he knows to be Bill’s fortress. Once the apocalypse had started, the demon had ditched Gravity Falls and built the impressive structure in an area he knew Stanford wouldn’t check. 

Dipper straightens as the others enter the room, Mabel flitting over to his side once more. They must have unloaded their supplies while he was upstairs because Wendy and Stanley sport cans of soda. Soos and Wendy are bantering back and forth over something, their eyes alight with passion, but it dies out once their eyes meet Dipper’s. He blinks, attention settling on Stanford, who has approached the table. 

“Okay, Wendy, we’re going to need you to locate the general area of the crystals, try to narrow it down enough for our searching.” The scientist’s hazel eyes glance up at Dipper, “You wouldn’t happen to have an ideas where the crystals might be found, would you?” 

The assassin shakes his head, eyes pouring over the map once more, “No. If I did, Master Cipher wouldn’t have bothered involving you in this affair. He would have preferred to keep the Pines family away from the crystals, but he didn’t really have a choice.” 

Over a mouth full of nachos, Soos manages, “Wait, why doesn’t Bill have a choice? I mean, isn’t he supposed to be some all powerful guy or something?” 

The company’s eyes shift back to Bill’s representative as he tries to think of an answer without giving away too much private information. Finally, Dipper settles with, “The problem is the navitas crystals were created by a pure celestial being for humans to use. Therefore a demon cannot use magic to locate them, as demons are the opposite of everything this being was. The crystals are undetectable to any demon’s radar.” 

“So why not just have you search for them?” Wendy’s almond brown gaze searches his face wearily, though it is not harsh or cold as yesterday. 

Dipper lowers his gaze to the floor, a little embarrassed with the answer, “Unfortunately, this isn’t my area of expertise, magic wise. While I do possess a wide range of abilities, this is not one of them.” 

Surprising both the rest of the family and the assassin, Stanley speaks up, “Well why couldn’t the bastard have gotten that other apprentice person to find it. Would’ve made more sense.” 

The assassin winces, “Ah... well, yes, you would think so. However, the other remaining human that Bill took an interest in isn’t… under his control per se… more of an ally really, but he would definitely be more likely to try and harness the crystals than you would. At least, that is in Master Cipher’s mind.” 

Wendy raises an eyebrow in disbelief, “Then why does the fucker keep the person around. Sounds like more of a threat than an ally.” 

The brunet glances guiltily at his feet, “Master Cipher keeps him around because the guy’s slightly insane. And he… proved himself before.” 

Mabel seems to realize that he doesn’t really want to talk about it, because she claps her hands together, “Well, how ‘bout we ignore him for now, seeing as he isn’t a problem currently, and get on with finding these crystals!” 

Stanford nods, turning to Wendy, “Do you want some space for this?” 

The young woman nods, crossing her arms while she walks up to the table, eyes traveling across the details in a bored sort of manner, “Yeah, I would prefer that.” 

Stanford, Stanley, and Soos all turn and leave, Dipper following their example, when Mabel tugs slightly at the sleeve of his sweater. “Wait, Malum, you _have_ to see this, it’s super cool.” 

The assassin purses his lips at the contact, but says nothing, giving the Pines girl a slight nod. Wendy glances at the pair, shrugging before moving to stand at the bottom of the map. She places her hands, palms down, in the air above the map, eyes drifting shut and lashes fluttering against her freckled cheeks. The young woman begins a soft chant, her hair fluttering and floating upwards as though lifted by a breeze, “ _Aditus haberet potestatem tertius oculus veniat. Da mihi visum amiserat antiquis lapidibus, ut tenebras dissipare suffecturum probaverit._ ” 

The chant is repeated several times, then the room goes dark, shadows lengthening and swallowing them whole. Dipper looks around where the room once was, eyes wide with curiosity. The only things that have remained visible are Mabel, Wendy, the map and table, and himself. His eyes dart back to the young woman when a bright green flash crosses his vision. A pair of small, but bright, green orbs hover and swirl underneath her hands. Suddenly, five bright dots of the same color spark to life on the map. 

Dipper blinks as the darkness leeches back into the shadows, no longer marring the entire room. The ginger sways slightly, one hand pulling out a chair to sit in. She tiredly glances at the map, then calls out, “Okay, I’m done now.” 

Both the assassin and Mabel move to look at the glowing specks on the map. Two of them a clumped somewhat near each other in Minnesota, one near International Falls and the other in Duluth. A third was located in Hamilton County, Kansas, the fourth once again farther west, in Midas, Nevada. Dipper’s fingers, which had been trailing from each dot to the next, froze at the final dot. It's residing in Gravity Falls. 

“Ah great, where are they- um, are you okay?” The scientist looked curiously at the assassin, having just returned with Stan and Soos in tow. 

Dipper, stood up from his crouched position, “You have to collect four of the crystals, correct?” 

Stanford glances at the map, “Yes, but if a fifth is available we might as well collect it. Could be useful and might help sway your boss.” 

“I wouldn’t be opposed to that… but the fifth is located in Gravity Falls. I doubt you want to visit that town.” 

The Pines family stiffen at the name. After the apocalypse and tragedy had unfolded, they had moved across the continent to Pennsylvania, and had avoided ever returning to the cursed place. Stanford, moves to confirm what the assassin had said, his eyes saddening when he finds it to be true. There’s silence, then Stanford speaks up, voice tired and worn, “Well… I guess we can’t avoid that place forever. Have to face the music at some point.” 

The assassin nods, briefly reviewing the positions of all the crystals, “If we are to end up collecting that one- which, again, is unnecessary- it will be the last of our stops.” 

Once again, the room enters an uncomfortable silence, then the Pines exit the room without another word. 

  
  
  


The decision was made among them- excluding Dipper- to leave next morning, allowing everyone time to stretch their legs and shake out the cramps from the last drive. Seating arrangements include Dipper riding with Wendy and Soos, the older Pines twins and girl riding in the RV by themselves. The assassin suspected the arrangements were made to allow them to plan without him listening in. 

They drove a total of twenty hours, the two young adults switching off every six hours to gain some shuteye on the long treck. Dipper was left to amuse himself- which wasn’t easy since he couldn’t do anything _fun_ without putting the pair on edge- so he busied himself along the way by counting the number of demonic sigils marking the territories along the way. Oh, and sleeping. He had done plenty of that on the trip, blocking out the jarring music they were playing from a tape. The two really need to work on their singing.

When they finally stopped the fourth time- the other three having been bathroom breaks- the landscape has shifted to the ruins of a once great city, the rich blue water of Lake Superior in view. Dipper slips from the soft leather, walking a couple paces from the car, wide mahogany orbs absorbing the crumbling buildings that once towered with pride. In the distance, an impressive bridge stretching over a strip of water remains undisturbed, surprisingly, since most monsters would have relished to have the opportunity to tear it down. 

The assassin frowns. Something must be wrong here otherwise- “Hey, don’t go wandering off!” He jumps at a sharp snap. 

Wendy is leaning against the large rusting pickup, almond gaze tracking the assassin’s movements with distaste, “We can’t go anywhere until Ford and Stan get here. So just stay put,” the young man nods briefly, heading turning to look back at the bridge, sensitive ears picking up an annoyed whisper, “Not like we would trust you to find a something of great power and not use it against us anyway.”

Dipper glares back at the ginger, eyes flaring with anger, but before he can say or do anything, the RV bumbles up the road, parking a few feet behind the truck. The doors instantly spring open, the Pines girl jumping out. She skips over to Soos and Wendy, laughing at something- Dipper notices she still laughs a lot and tends to be a very bright and happy person in general, despite, you know, the whole end of the world thing- then, she turns, eyes spotting him a distance away and runs over. 

Mabel skids to a stop directly in front of the assassin, eyes bright as she peers at his face, “Hey, Malum! How was your ride here?” 

He shrugs, eyes flicking to Stanford, who’s unloading something from the RV with the help of Stanley and Soos, “Uneventful. Boring. How was your ride here?” 

“Ugh, my uncles were being complete _nerds_ the _entire time_. It got bad enough that I knitted myself a set of earmuffs.”

Stanley interrupts them, shouting out in his gravelly voice, “Alright, you useless young ones, get over here.” 

As soon as everyone is assembled, the scientist begins explaining their plan, “I have a device on me that can track the wavelength of the crystal. We’ll be following that. Our formation while tracking the crystal down will be like this: Malum, you will be the head of the group, as you have the most combat skills and will have a greater chance of successfully eliminating any threats head on. Next, Soos and Stan will follow about three meters behind him- have your magic ready just in case. Finally, in the back will be Mabel, Wendy, and myself. Everyone understand?” 

Everyone nods, turning to get in formation. Dipper notices a fault already, “Which way are we supposed to be heading?” 

“Oh… right. One moment,” Stanford pulls a device about the size of an ipad mini, just a little more bulky, out of an inner coat pocket, pressing a side button. The device hums to life, and within a few seconds it is making a small pinging noise, becoming louder when turned to face the direction of the bridge. “Alrighty, we’re heading that way. Let’s move out.” 

Cautiously, Dipper takes the lead, posture and stance switching to that of his assassin persona without a second thought. The hairs on the back of his neck are prickling, and a sense of unease spreads through his chest, weighing his heart. Mahogany eyes flicker to the buildings on either side of him, but they reveal no movement, no life. But he knows this feeling too well. They’re being watched, stalked, like prey. Dipper doesn’t say anything though, still trying to locate the threat before he spooks the Pines. 

They’ve been walking for fifteen minutes, and the feeling has only worsened. The bridge is within a couple minutes distance, if in vehicle or running. Dipper pauses, a sudden cold traveling up his spine. 

“Hey! Spook, keep moving, we don’t got time to smell the flowers.” 

The assassin’s head whips to the side, eyes widening with surprise. His eyes flick to the Pines, who have started towards him, “Wait! Stay there!” They pause, looking at him confusedly. His eyes flash to a bright amber when Dipper holds his hand out. Like lightning, sigils trace themselves into the ground, arching to form a massive circle covering at least two dozen blocks. Dipper takes a deep breath, restraining a grin from forming on his face. Finally, some fun. “Stanford, I need the device.” 

The scientist’s hazel eyes widen, then glare at him with distrust, holding the tracker closer to his chest, “And why the hell should I do that?” 

The assassin nudges the sigils , which glow in a bright indigo, with the toe if his boot, “This is an enemy demon’s territory. You guys don’t want to come in here, anything that does will be seen as a delicious meal.” The family glances around warily, shifting closer to one another, “Give the device to me, I’ll get it and be back without any of you being in harm's way.” 

Stanford studies him, then walks forward, pressing the machine into the assassin’s outstretched hand delicately. His eyes look worried, “Be careful.” 

An eyebrow climbs his forehead in disbelief, then, after moving the device to be safely cradled under an arm, Dipper turns to gaze at the objective. He murmurs a quick spell, eyes flashing to the bright magenta, darting forward with incredible speed. 

He can tell he’s caught the demon’s hungry gaze, especially when a hot, molten beam nearly grazes his right hip. An oozing hole is left in the asphalt, bubbling thickly, Dipper’s speed increasing as he hurdles over broken concrete, weaving around the assaults being hurled at him from the still unseen threat above. 

Dipper grips the machine, glancing at the screen as he swiftly approaches the bridge. The crystal is somewhere in the supporting arches of the bridge, apparently. He carefully tucks the machine into his sweater, magenta irises flashing wickedly. With two quick bounds, Dipper flips himself onto the bridge. Just as his feet touch the ground, the demon materializes. _Finally, I was beginning to think it a coward_ , the voice cackles. 

The demon is a pure white and looks rather humanoid, excluding the two extra sets of arms protruding from the back, giving the creature a spider-like appearance. Four bright pupil-less eyes, all a matching indigo to the sigils, glare at the assassin, a deep rumbling sound vibrating from its chest like thunder, “Back off, boy. Leave now and you won’t be getting hurt.” 

A maniacal laugh, not too unlike Bill’s, escapes Dipper’s lips, magenta gaze bleeding to a bright, fiery gold, “Oh no, I think I will be getting what I came for,” He purrs, the voice in his head synchronizing with his physical one, “I recommend _you_ back off. You don’t seem very powerful, and I would just _hate_ for you to have your pride torn from you by challenging me.” 

With an angry snarl, the demon charges forward. Dipper blasts forward to meet it, blue flames encircling the young man’s hands as he brings one back, preparing for a weighted punch. Once the demon is only several paces away, the assassin plants a foot down, twisting as he throws his weight into the punch. As the flaming fist connects with the snowy demon’s chest, the creature shrieks in pain, flying backwards to the opposite end of the bridge. 

A wide, insane grin splits Dipper’s face, golden eyes flashing with amusement. The voice coos, _aww, well he wasn’t very fun. I wanted an actual challenge_. The young man snickers, mockingly blowing out the flaming fists before darting to the supporting arches. He flips himself up, swiftly climbing and leaping from arch to arch. 

Now that he focuses on it, Dipper can actually feel the wavelengths radiating out from the crystal. The assassin’s golden gaze darts to the far end of the bridge. _There_ , the voice whispered, filled with excitement. He sprints forward, nearly halfway there when a large fist knocks him backwards, tumbling hazardously across the asphalt. Hissing with pain, the assassin rises to his feet, glaring up at the demon. 

Dipper freezes at the sound of footfall behind him, eyes snapping back. The Pines seem to have ignored his warning. They all stiffen at the sight of his unnaturally glowing irises. With a roll of his eyes, he barks out, “Oh get over yourselves, it’s still me. The crystal is on the opposite end of the bridge, up on one of the supporting beams,” He gestures in the direction, pulling the machine from his sweater, tossing it to Stanford, “You go collect, I’ll deal with the… _inconvenience_.”

They all nervously glance up at the demon, who is watching the interaction with interest. Mabel begins protesting, “You can’t expect us to just leav-” 

“I said I’ll deal with it.” The assassin snaps, golden eyes blazing at the said inconvenience. 

Once he receives a nod from them, the icy blue flames roar to life as Dipper makes a quick move against the demon. A flaming foot lands squarely on its stomach, followed quickly by a hard punch to the jaw. The demon’s claws graze the young man’s cheek. With a couple growled enchantments, the demon is smashed down into the river, assassin diving down in pursuit. Under the water, the two crawl at each other, magic explosions knocking them back, the surface flashing the intertwining colors of gold and indigo. 

With a swift, well-aimed kick, Dipper shoots out of the water, landing hard on his back. Gasping, the assassin rolls over, rising to his feet, golden eyes flashing dangerously. He turns, one hand cutting through the air, feeling the familiar tug before pulling out a weapon from storage. A heavy, double bladed axe glints wickedly as Dipper turns it over in his hands. 

Chuckling softly, he walks up to the edge of the bridge, eyes tracking the water for any signs of his play mate, but the search reveals nothing. Glancing up, he notices the Pines are heading back for the border, Stanford leading the group with Mabel at his side. She carries the luminous crystal. 

Mahogany orbs scan his surroundings again. This isn’t right. _Where the hell did that asshat go?_ the voice growls. Dipper’s eyes widen in realization, attention darting back to the Pines. _Well shit_.

Using a magic boost, the assassin begins a sprint towards the family. They are in the prime spot, tall buildings on both sides of the street. And only about seven meters away from the boundary line. He speeds up, a moving blur of blue flames. 

Apparently the family can hear his approach, because they pause turning to look. He’s about to scream at them, tell them to turn around and run like hell, but a sudden strong force blasts everyone over the boundary line, which seals itself- excluding Mabel. The brunette lies on the ground, arms wrapped protectively around the coconut-sized gem. 

Dipper strains to increase his speed, eyes flickering to magenta while he drops the axe. The demon materializes in front of the girl, one hand raised as it aims a beam at her. The assassin can’t explain what comes over him, he hasn't felt this need to protect in several years, but his heart stops, seeing the brunette defenseless against the demon. 

A bright blast of purple sparks and he’s there, Dipper’s body shielding the girl’s from the demon. His eyes widen at the sharp pain spreading through his abdomen. He glances at his stomach, which has a sizzling hole where the beam pierced him. _That bastard!_ The voice shrieks, _how ‘bout we finish this one up?_

The animalistic grin splits his face again as the forgotten battle axe flies to an outstretched hand. A sharp kick sends the demon flying backwards, crashing through the wall of an apartment building, sending clouds of dust into the air. Dipper slowly strolls after his target, axe blade dragging lazily on the ground. He spots the demon kneeling on the floor, struggling to rise to its feet as he approaches. Weapon in hand, Dipper twists, axe swinging sharply in a wide arch. The demon’s head falls to the floor with a sickening squish, blood spraying the assassin’s face and hands. 

A mad giggle flits through the room, the assassin eyeing the corpse as he licks the blood from his fingers. Using the thick oozing black liquid, he sketches Bill’s wheel hazily. He chants quickly, using the demon as a sacrifice. In turn, the wound on his stomach flares with a burning sensation, leaving Dipper wincing, but overall unharmed. 

Strolling out of the rubble, Dipper notices the Pines, now huddling together- focus mainly on Mabel- watching him with wide eyes. He raises an eyebrow while approaching, magenta gaze flicking to the crystal, “What do you want? One down, four to go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys enjoyed, everyone loved assassin/dark!dipper so I served. Also, I will try to get at least one chapter up over the weekend, I might be delayed depending on whether I have to visit the doctor's.


	7. Longing for the Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No action in this chapter, sorry! Some more bonding time between Stan, Mabel, and Dipper, and Dipper's more human side is coming out of hiding, if very slowly. And a new character coming into play?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp. I am a complete and utter failure. I am super sorry for not updating for an entire week. Ridiculous amounts of homework combined with killer headaches results in me having no motivation to write. So again, I apologize for the wait time!

**Mabel**

Mabel’s heart is still hammering, breathing quick and uneven. The scene from less than an hour earlier still replaying over and over in her head. One second, the brunette had been certain she would die, the white demon posed, ready to strike- but then _he was there_ , standing between her and the monster as a human shield. And _his eyes_ , glowing a beautiful, vibrant magenta, the slitted pupils focused on the threat with so much anger. 

The girl shivers, a shaking hand coming to rub at her cheek again. Ford had cleaned everything off, but the spots that had been covered in Malum’s blood still felt warm. _Why on earth would he do that for me?_

A thoughtful voice spooks the girl, causing her to jump slightly, “Probably to gain our trust. Normally, that kind of action would work, y’know?” Wendy’s idly tapping the hilt of her axe, staring into the distance, unfocused. 

She blinks, “Wait, did I say that out loud?” 

A small hum of confirmation from the older woman and Mabel’s wincing. She doesn’t want the family, _especially Ford_ , to realize just how attached she is to the assassin. It’s true, Mabel hasn’t spent much time with the guy, and he has a very shifty character, but based on everything she has seen- not even including today- there may just be a warmer, more human side to him. And with all her heart, Mabel wants to be able to talk to him. 

“Mabel, look I… I know you’ve been through a lot, and I’m really proud that you have stayed so sensitive and understanding to people… but this isn’t one of those people you should be looking in on. At all. He’s dangerous.” 

Her eyes spark with anger and cheeks heat up, a brief glare flashing at the ginger, “Back off, Wendy.” 

The older woman turns, searching Mabel’s face, “Mabel, you didn’t see the look on that kid’s face when he was fighting the demon. He- he looked sadistic, insane… Hell I would say he enjoyed killing that thing.” 

“But he didn’t have to take the bullet for me,” Mabel’s voice is little more than a sad whisper, eyes pleading, “Wendy, nobody would have blamed Malum if he hadn’t moved me. Why would we? And I doubt it was for trust either. I really, _really_ think there is a good person in there. Somewhere.” 

The ginger’s eyes are skeptical, lips pulling into a slight frown, “A good person. Heh, yeah, no. A person? Sure. A good one? No.” 

“Wendy, with the things Malum must have lived through and seen, are you really surprised that he built a wall to protect himself from the world?” 

A tired sigh, Wendy’s mouth open with a retort on the tip of his tongue, but Stanley interrupts the two, “Hey, we’re getting ready to head out again, so make sure to use the bathroom within the next fifteen minutes, otherwise be sure to have a decent-sized cup on you.” 

Both women shudder, “Aww, gross.” The older man laughs, eyes alight with mischief and amusement. 

“Oh, before I forget, the car parties have rotated. Wendy, Stanford is joining you and Soos.” 

Quirking an eyebrow, “Then someone has to sit next to the freak.” 

“ _Wendy_.” Mabel hisses with an accompanying glare. 

“Spook and Ford are switching places,” Stan glances over his shoulder, glancing carefully at the assassin- who is sitting with his back resting against the truck, closed eyes and steady breathing giving him peaceful look- before continuing, voice significantly lower in a secretive whisper, “You two need to be updated on some plans we made. And we don’t want the kid to know about them for the most part.” 

A serious look and a firm nod, and then Wendy is heading back to the truck, mentioning something to Soos. 

Mabel slowly approaches the assassin, cautious after seeing the violent display earlier. “Hey,” she begins, pausing when he flinches slightly, eyes snapping open to eye her, “You’re going to be riding with me and Stan for the next portion of the trip.” His eyelids flutter shut, a sluggish and sleepy nod the only response. The brunette frowns, kneeling down to get a better look at Malum, “Are you okay? You don’t look very good.” 

A shaky breath, “I am fine. Just lost a bit more blood than planned earlier- that combined with the intensity of the magic I was using- so I am a little drained.” 

“Oh. Right.” The maple depths of her irises soften, a small smile tugging at Mabel’s rosy lips. “You gonna need some help getting to the RV?” 

“If you would not mind.” Malum grunts in pain as he slowly rises to his feet. 

The young woman slides and arm around him, supporting him. They begin to make their way to the vehicle, keeping a steady pace, “By the way, I wanted to ask you- why did you do it?” 

Eyes flicker to her face from behind the black mask, confusing lacing their depths, “Excuse me?” 

Her teeth tug at her lip, which blooms darker blotches in irritation, “You quite literally took a bullet for me- and you don’t even really know me. So, why?” 

The question is met with silence for a minute, the only immediate sound being Malum’s feet dragging lightly across the floor occasionally. Her fingers brush across the RV’s door handle, “It is my duty to protect you.” 

The brunette turns, an eyebrow quirked in disbelief, “No it isn’t. Your job is to ensure we don’t plot against Bill once we have the crystals.” 

The assassin's gaze drifts to look at their feet guiltily. Malum breaths out a deep, yet shaky, sigh, “I don’t know. I guess I just haven’t had a friend in a while, and I would have felt terrible if you had died.” A light, slightly insane sounding laugh, “Besides, does it really matter? I mean, look, I’m not dead, I knew Bill would heal me, so there wasn’t much threat in taking the damage.” 

The smile tugs at her lips again as Mabel opens the door, guiding Malum up the steps. She knows the first part is true, his aura blooming beautiful shades of baby blues being telling cards on the matter. The second part wasn’t a lie per se, but gray had leeched back into the aura’s cloud at the words, so Mabel doubts it’s the full truth. “Okay. Well, thanks anyway.” She murmurs, turning to settle a fond gaze on the assassin. 

Malum takes to resting at the booth near the back again, arms folded on the table as a pillow while he dozes. Maple irises continue to fondly watch the sleeping figure from the front beside Stan as the RV rumbles to life and they begin their drive. 

Stan snorts after about fifteen minutes into the drive, snapping Mabel’s attention and focus back to reality, “Nice heart eyes, honey.” 

Cheeks flushing, Mabel stutters, “Oh screw off. He saved my life and is too _emotionally constipated_ to admit he did it because he enjoys having a friend- and that is fricken adorable.”

The older man casts a sideways glance at her, raising an eyebrow, “You two are friends?” 

The young woman huffs with pride, crossing her arms over her chest, “That’s right. F-R-I-E-N-D-S.” 

A sad look passes over Stanley’s face, “Mabel, sweetie, please remember this is the same guy that just _killed a demon_.” 

“I know, but Grunkle Stan, you haven’t seen how... how… _human_ Malum can be when he’s comfortable and doesn’t feel threatened.” 

His soft maple eyes glance at her again, “... I believe you, pumpkin. Besides, I am grateful for what the kid did.” 

The brunette smiles at the older man, taking note of the thankfulness swirling in his eyes. She turns, looking back once more at the assassin, though she’s surprised when her gaze catches mahogany eyes gazing back at her. The smile drops off her face, a strange feeling settling in her chest heavily as the two stare at each other. 

They stare at each other for nearly a minute before Mabel blinks, shaking herself from the daze. “Would you like to come join us up here?” She calls out in a quiet voice. 

The brunette feels a marginal amount of surprise, and a large blooming wave of happiness as Malum nods, rising to his feet and shuffling over. Without a sound, the young man is sitting in between the chairs of Mabel and her uncle, legs crossed. 

Nervous hands twitch, pulling lightly at the rough carpet, and Mabel can’t help but feel pity for him. She turns to look at Stan, “So, how long is the drive to International Falls going take?” 

A shrug from the older man, “Probably around three hours or so. Not as long as the drive to reach Duluth did, _that’s for sure_.” Stanley groans at that, rolling his head from left to right, resulting in loud cracking from his stiff neck. 

“Oh thank god.” She sighs happily, grinning down at Malum. 

The assassin relaxes marginally, his lips twisting strangely. The three rest in an awkward silence, Mabel jumping slightly when Malum’s voice softly inquires, “What magic type do the two of you have?” 

She blinks, surprised. Other than Wendy, no one had shown any signs of magic around him, so it was odd that Malum was aware of the presence of their abilities, “I’m more of a psychological type. I can read emotions and influence them. That and I can do some healing. “ 

An intrigued look, Malum tilts his head, “You can influence emotions? Like, any emotion, or just a couple?” 

“I’m better with positive emotions, that and I don’t enjoy making people feel bad. Why?” 

The assassin nods, a small smirk that is strangely fond playing across his lips, “I’m the opposite actually. I mean- I don’t _enjoy_ making people feel bad, but that’s what Master Cipher had me focus on, especially fear.” 

“Oh, that’s cool. And sad. But cool that we have similar magic types. Can you see auras?” 

“Auras?” 

“I’ll take that as a no. Well, an aura is like this… _cloud or glow_ that every person has. It reflects their soul, I guess, and it can show what a person is feeling.” 

Malum makes a small noise of acknowledgement, nodding in understanding. Stan shows no signs of giving up his information, so Mabel continues, “And Grunkle Stan also has magic, but he’s shy.” 

Stan sends a glare at her, who is giggling. Malum smiles, a deep blue of amusement swirling in his aura. “I did not intend to be nosy, I was just wondering. It’s always intriguing to hear how others have advanced.” 

The brunette gazes at him, suddenly uncertain, “You won’t ever… try to kill us or anything… right?” 

A soft, tired sigh, “I… I won’t. Of my own free will, anyway. However, if Bi- _Master Cipher_ orders me to… I won’t have much of a choice.” The assassin looks up, sadness and guilt dulling the warmth in the mahogany depths. 

Stan looks thoughtful, beginning carefully, “Hey, Spook, why are you so loyal to the bastard? I mean, he’s obviously abusive and wouldn’t make a healthy companion. So why are you so dedicated?” 

Malum’s breathing shakes, almost unnoticeably, as he gazes at his folded hands in his lap in a lost and somewhat helpless way, “I... it’s hard to explain.” 

Her uncle doesn’t appear to be in the relenting mood, “Try me. My nephew had to spend time with the jerk, I want to know how messed up he could be. Cause, I mean, you’re obviously pretty far down the road of screwed and yet you seem to adore the creep in some weird way.” 

Mabel watches his face carefully, the look in Malum’s eyes becoming distant, unfocused. “He… he was smart with how he went about having us abused… Never did it himself unless he was _really_ angry…” The brunette’s eyes widen, watching a couple tears slip from the mask and down his cheek, “And then he- Bill would show up when we were complete wrecks, all bloody and on the verge of death- half the time wishing for it too- and then he would fix us up. With soft words and gentle touches too. Eventually it reaches the point where your magic becomes familiar with the idea that _Bill’s_ is safe, that he’ll protect you.”

Stan has pulled the RV to the side of the worn road by now, staring in shock at the crying and emotional assassin. Mabel rubs his back in small, soothing circles, trying to hold back her own tears at the sight of Malum’s break down, “And- and I mean, yeah I know he isn’t good and doesn’t actually care or want to protect me, but my instincts subconsciously follow my magic’s advice rather than my brain’s, so I can’t help but fight for him or want to protect him.” 

Malum buries his face into his arms, his breathing completely out of control. The young woman pulls him into a hug, a couple of tears slipping from her own eyes. They sit like that for a while, Stan also having moved into his more fatherly persona, stroking the assassin’s hair lightly. Mabel looks up at her uncle, and she can tell from the look in his eyes that he is aware of the same fact that is breaking her heart; they couldn’t just abandon Malum now, leave him to fend for himself against Bill. 

Stanley begins driving again after about ten minutes- Ford questioning their stop over a walkie talkie having spurred him to continue with the journey. Mabel stays there on the floor with Malum, softly humming a lullaby her mother had sung for her and Dipper back when they were younger and scared of the beasts under the bed. 

He sits up, rubbing his eyes slightly before looking up at Mabel guiltily, “I- I apologize. I just don’t like to think about those times very much. Block them out, for the most part.” 

The growly voice of her uncle cuts in, gentle in tone, “Don’t apologize, kid. You have no reason to feel sorry for what he did to you. And I bet you aren’t allowed to show anywhere near this much emotion on the subject around him, right?” 

Nodding numbly, Malum looks around the RV, attempting to avoid the gaze from the Pines. He pauses, eyes resting on the radio, “Do you have any decent CDs?” 

“Here,” Mabel grunts as she reaches up, flipping open a small compartment full of different CDs. Light fingers flit over the different albums, pulling one out with a beaming smile. _The Fame Monster_ “You a Gaga fan?” 

Another small, almost nostalgic smile, and a tiny nod, “Sure.” 

Carefully, Mabel inserts the disk, which begins playing after about thirty seconds. The trio- though Malum didn’t participate for the first few songs- spent the rest of the drive rocking out, allowing the weight of their troubles and worries to be lifted from their shoulders, even if just for a few hours. 

**Dipper**

After the whole shame of having a mental and emotional breakdown wore off, the drive to International Falls wasn’t completely horrible for Dipper. Their synchronized karaoke was just as bad as it had been seven years ago when he had accidentally resurrected a mob of zombies and ruined a party. But… everything had almost felt normal- Mabel and Stanley weren’t nearly as suspicious and much more welcoming and friendly than the other three. Halfway through the trip, they were even joking around like they _knew_ it was Dipper they were speaking with- enough so that he had checked to ensure his mask was actually on. 

Finally, they see a sign that says, _‘International Falls Welcomes You’_ \- though the once bright paint has now chipped, leaving the sign in a rather sad state. Mabel snorts at the sight, “And I thought Gravity Falls had a pathetic sign.” 

Stanley elbows his niece, “It’s part of the whole charm.” 

Dipper can feel the smile spreading across his features, and fails to suppress it. He looks down at his hands as the two begin bickering again. The voice sounds almost wistful, _Do you think we’ll even be able to be like that again? With Stan and Mabel..._

He watches the two from the floor- Mabel had returned to her chair about an hour back, complaining of stiff legs and sleeping feet. _Maybe..._ Dipper responds, _But that would require…_

_Freedom from Bill, right?_ The voice finishes his thought. 

The young man hums in agreement, resting his chin on a knee. 

“What, Malum?” A cheery voice interrupts his thoughts. 

He looks up to find the Pines girl- no, _Mabel_ looking back at him curiously. “What?” 

“You made a sound.” 

Oh. “I was just thinking to myself.” 

She smiles at him, teeth flashing in a bright grin. Dipper hadn’t noticed it before- then again, he hadn’t been trying to socialize very much- but Mabel’s braces had been removed. Now that he’s actually thinking about it, Mabel is extremely pretty. It’s a pity the whole apocalypse thing happened, otherwise Dipper had no doubt she would easily be catching dates like she had wanted to back when they were twelve. 

They slowly roll to a stop, parking outside a gas station- which has long since been abandoned. The trio pile out of the RV, breaking a window with a hammer from Dipper’s storage to get into the convenience store. Waltzing through the three aisles, Mabel begins grabbing every available and undamaged pack of chips, beef jerky, and so on. Stan, on the other hand, grabs two large cartons of gasoline, hauling them back out to the RV, Dipper trailing behind him. 

As the older man fills up the gas tank, Dipper speaks up, “I could make the gas tank bottomless if you want.” 

Aged maple eyes glance at him curiously, “You could do what now?” 

“Make the gas tank bottomless.” He receives a confused look in response, so Dipper elaborates, “Basically you’ll never run out of gas. Like, ever. And you won’t have to refill it either.” 

The older man straightens, wiping his brow with the back of his hand, “You can do that?” 

The assassin nods, kneeling the gas cap. He places one hand on it, murmuring a short, yet incredibly useful incantation. Dipper’s eyes flash a soft gold, nothing like Bill’s in the fact that it’s a gentle shade, like sunshine on a spring day. A small ripple, a weighted feeling, and Dipper knows it worked. 

He straightens, dusting off his knees. Stan looks at him expectantly, and Dipper smiles, “There. You are now free of gas tank maintenance.” The smile dimmed slightly, the strange look on Stan’s face making Dipper feel slightly concerned, “Are you okay?”

Stan shakes his head, blinking a few times, “No, everything’s fine. Thanks, kid.” A heavy hand claps his shoulder. 

Dipper smiles at him again, then heads back to the convenience store to check on Mabel. “Mabel? You alright?” 

A muffled voice sounds from behind the counter, “Over here!” 

The brunet strolls over, fingers tapping lightly at the counter. His eyes train themselves on Mabel, who is currently sitting on the floor in the middle of a disarray of snacks. Dipper quirks an eyebrow, “So… what are you doing?” 

The young woman grins up at him, patting the spot next to her in a gesture for him to sit, “Well, Malum, I was originally just down here to grab a bag to carry this stuff in, but then I saw those crates of beer and guess what?” 

“What?” 

“It hasn’t expired!” She shrieks, clapping her hands giddily. 

“You don’t strike me as the type that enjoys alcohol.” 

Mabel huffs, rolling her eyes, “Not for me, silly. For Ford and Wendy, so they can finally stop acting so tense.” Dipper snorts in amusement, “No, Malum I am serious. It’s like what Ferris Bueller said about his friend, if you shove a piece of coal up their butts, within a couple days you would have a diamond. Not even kidding.” 

Dipper laughs and within a few seconds, Mabel chimes in. 

  


Stanley looks up as the rust ridden pick up groans into a stop, the rest of their party slipping out. Wendy and Ford seem especially happy to see him safe and in one piece, while Soos is casually munching on a bag of chips. 

“How was your ride up?” Ford immediately quizzes his twin, hazel eyes searching for any signs of injury. 

Stan crosses his arms, glancing back at the convenience store, an affectionate look gleaming in his maple orbs, “It was… interesting to say the least. It’s funny, the kid really isn’t that bad… actually seems like he might have a sweet side to him.” 

Wendy and Ford groan while Soos just gives him a serious stare, eyes narrowing in suspicion, “Wait, Mr. Pines, does the assassin have you under some sort of spell?” 

The older man sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose, “What? No, Soos- look, Malum is incredibly polite and nice when he doesn’t feel threatened.” 

“Stanley, having Mabel fawn over Bill’s minion was bad enough.” 

Maple irises harden, fixing Stanford with a cold stare, “The kid is broken. Ford, I’m not just going to let Bill take him back. He’s suffered too much already.” 

The scientist shakes his head, “Stanley, I understand that you feel guilty after what happened to Dipper, but this kid isn’t our responsibility. At _all_.” 

“You’re right. He isn’t. But I’m going to make him one of my responsibilities.” Stan’s brother attempts to interrupt, to reason with him but he continues, “From what Malum has said, I doubt I’ll ever be able to save Dipper… but… that doesn’t mean I can’t save Malum.” 

Everyone snaps shut at those words, an understanding passing through the others at his words. Wendy shifts her feet, arms crossed, “Alright… We’ll do what we can for him. But we are not risking our lives. And that includes you.” Stan nods slowly in agreement, “But he still can’t know about our plans for the crystals. The second he knows, we’ll have a pissed off Bill after us.”

Everyone murmurs in agreement. Stan looks at his brother again, “So have we figured out how we’re going to wield these crystals to fight against Bill?” 

Stanford scratches the back of his head, looking a bit embarrassed, “Well… not quite…” 

A cool, sharp voice pipes up from the top of the RV, spooking the crew- who whip around to find the unwelcome presence, “I would be able to assist you with that. So how ‘bout a we make a _deal_?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys enjoyed! 
> 
> By the way, comments are a major motivation for me when it comes to writing, because I am aware that people are digesting the chapters and I feel the need to keep the story rolling.  
> So all comments are welcomed, read, and usually responded to.
> 
> Love you guys! <3


	8. How to Royally Screw Yourself- An Autobiography by Dipper Pines

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Pines make a questionable decision and 'Malum' makes a slip up that will really come back to blow up in his face later. Everyone begins making secret plans behind each other's backs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I seriously apologize for the absence and lack of updates. I know nobody wants to hear my excuses, but I've been struggling with sicknesses and my theater class is taking up a lot of time. I will make sure to update weekly, if not biweekly. I swear I will not abandon my story, but sometimes I just have no motivation or can't figure out how to write a scene and I just need a break and my editors are not always available so my pathetic list keeps growing and I apologize again.
> 
> But thank you for leaving all the nice comments and kudos, it always makes me smile to read the alerts sent to my email. I'm apologize if this chapter is slow or boring, but I am writing this story the way I believe will make the most sense and leading up to future events. A longer chapter will be coming soon, with a new character and blah blah. I'll shut up now.

The four Pines move closer together, stances tense and ready in case of assault, but the figure hovering about a foot above the RV doesn’t make any moves. It’s a young woman, looks to be either in her late teens or early twenties, though her hair is stark white. Violet eyes busy themselves by studying her cuticles before glancing down at them. 

“Well?” She pipes up again. 

Stanford takes a step forward, growling through gritted teeth, “Who the hell are you?” 

The girl- no, she’s definitely a demon- laughs lightly, floating down to the ground to stand. She holds out a hand to Stanford, who smacks it away. The smile doesn’t break, she just looks rather amused, “Well aren’t you all just warm and cuddly? Fine, my name is Paige, nice to meet all of you officially.” 

Wendy approaches the demoness cautiously, “So why do you want to help us build a weapon against Bill? You’re a demon, shouldn’t you be trying to do the opposite?” 

‘Paige’ grimaces, “Yeah, um, _no_. You see, because of the royal ass, there is basically no one to make deals with anymore. That’s a demon’s main way of climbing the ladder of power. And those that are still around, well, they’ve learned not to trust demons.” 

The Pines slowly nod, “So he basically screwed everyone over.” 

The demoness sighs, tucking her legs up to sit- still hovering in the air, “Yeah. The only way to get any power now is if you kiss the guy’s ass. But I’m not doing that anytime soon.” She brushes a silky white hair from her face, violet irises hopeful, “So if there is _any_ chance that someone wants to kick him back to his own dimension, I will _happily_ assist them. Just tell me what you guys need.” 

Stanford studies her critically, “Before we arrange anything, won’t Cipher’s dog sense a deal being made and raise the alarm bells?” 

With pursed lips, the demoness studies her feet, brows drawn together, “He… no, and even if he did, Malum won’t report me in.” 

Soos laughs nervously, “So you two dudes in cahoots or somethin’?” 

Violet eyes flash dangerously, “ _No_ , we aren’t in the league together… but his magical presence is familiar. We may have met before so he wouldn't sell me out.” Her voice has tightened, and Paige turns to gaze at the wooded area surrounding the crew.

A snort from Stan draws her attention back in, “Oh joy, can’t wait to hear that story. However, as excited as I am, would you care to explain our options that are reasonable in taking down a certain dorito.” 

Paige glances at him, enthusiasm and interest flashing in bright irises, “Ah, yes. You all are already aware of the power of the navitas crystals, correct?” A slow nodding of their heads drive the girl further, “Well, these crystals, if harnessed of course, can become the ultimate weapon. The magic itself is incredibly pure, after all, it is said to have been made by perfect beings. This means that it would be the perfect weapon against a _demon_.”

The scientist rolls his eyes, rolling his hand to indicate a pick up of the pace, “Yes, yes, we already are aware of this. We have one crystal in our possession currently, but we don’t know how to harness the power.” 

The demoness huffs in annoyance, “I wasn’t done. To build the weapon I have in mind we need at least four crystals- all of which must at least be the size of Ginger’s fist- then I am going to leave you to some creative freedom, Stanford. I can implant a basic blueprint into your noggin, but essentially it’s an incredibly bulky laser gun.” 

“Heh, that doesn’t seem too hard.” Soos says, relief evident in his voice. 

Paige nods, but a shadow overtakes her features, “The only thing- which is incredibly cliche but there isn’t anything we can do about it- is you only have _one_ shot with this gun. After that shot, the gun won’t be able to function properly because of the amount of energy the crystals emit.” 

“So that shot has to count,” The scientist murmurs thoughtfully. Hesitating for a few moments, Stanford holds a gloved hand out to the frosty haired being. 

Instead, the demoness shakes her head, “I can’t make the deal with you. If I do, Bill will most definitely sense it even if the assassin doesn’t. We can’t risk it.” Paige turns her cool gaze to the scientist’s twin instead, “Stanley, can I shake on it with you?” 

The older man nods, moving forward with a hand outstretched, “I swear, if you turn out to be a backstabbing bitch, I won’t hesitate to gut you like a fish.” 

The demoness’s laugh is a light one, her violet irises sparkling with amusement, “Of course.” She holds out a thin hand, pausing and looking up at the man, eyes seeping to the same vibrant lime green of the flames that now dance around her hand and lick at her wrist, “Do we have a deal?” 

A firm nod, “ _Deal_.” 

  
  
  


Mabel slowly carries a crate of alcohol out to the RV, brow furrowed in concentration. Malum is on her left, a crate of alcohol under one arm and another with snack food under the other. The brunette huffs, glaring at the young man out of the corner of her eyes, “Okay, what the hell man? You just go and show of what a hunk you are right now?” The assassin gives a light laugh, mahogany eyes sparkling with amusement, “No, seriously, should I be collapsing on the floor fanning myself?” 

The young man clad in black snorts, “Um, no thank you, I’ll just pretend I don’t know you.” 

The young woman feigns a gasp of betrayal, “Malum, that is no way to treat a high class lady,” Mabel can barely hear the quiet mumbling, “It isn’t nice to mock people when they can’t hear you. And I don’t think your plan of ignoring me would work, because I am almost certain we’ll be stuck with each other for a while.” 

Malum shakes his head in amusement- Mabel will never mention it, but the assassin’s aura had been blooming in healthy shades of periwinkle and baby blue since the drive to International Falls- then stiffens. The young man’s eyes harden and narrow, darting around the RV and pickup. Mabel glances around, “What’s wrong?” 

The assassin’s response is quiet and nervous, “An entity was here. And I… I vaguely recognize this particular wavelength of magic.” 

The brunette cocks her head to the side, thick brown hair swishing around in the ponytail it’s been bound in, “Um… what’s an entity?” 

“An entity is a powerful being of magic. It isn’t quite a demon because it lacks the darkness and evil in its center, but it’s too much of a neutral party to be considered something like an angel. Basically if a normal person became immortal and magical.” 

“Oh, cool.” Mabel pauses, chewing on her lower lip nervously, “Wait, you said you know this one?” 

Malum remains quiet, his aura filling with a dark grayish-blue of a storm cloud, “Yes… but I can’t quite place it.” 

The young woman nods, “Well, let’s hope it minds its own business and we can get on with ours.” 

The assassin hesitates, mouth still tugging into a frown, but he turns and returns his focus to Mabel once again. The duo continue their slow trudge back to the RV. “Your uncles are aware the crystals do not have to be collected and returned to Master Cipher in about a month, correct?” 

She nods, “Of course, but we honestly don’t want to deal with the creepy triangle for longer than necessary.” Out of the corner of her eyes, Mabel can see the assassin’s shoulder sag slightly. She blinks, eyes widening, “It doesn’t have anything to do with you though- I mean, it kind of does but we don’t mind you as much. Hell, I think I like it better when you’re around.” 

“You don’t need to reassure or comfort me, Mabel. I have been and still well aware of the fact that this arrangement is temporary and will not be forever.” 

Mabel honestly doesn’t know how she’s supposed to respond to that- the honest and heartbreaking truth of the boy’s position- so she opts to stay silent instead. They deposit their crates safely in the RV then return outside to search for the others. 

This proves more challenging than Mabel had thought. “I guess they went to go get the second crystal themselves? Whatever, more bonding time for us!” Mabel whoops. 

Wincing, Malum replies, “ _Oh joy._ ” 

The brunette punches the assassin’s shoulder lightly, smirking, “Oh shut up, you love spending time with me. Hey, do you want to check out the area? Take a relaxing stroll through the decimated town?” 

Malum snorts, shaking his head, but begins leisurely walking further into International Falls. Surprisingly, walking through a withering town, accompanied with the view of crumbling buildings and ruptured sidewalks, is rather pleasant. Mabel sparks the conversation with Malum- as usual- and finds that since his breakdown in the RV on the ride here the boy has become much more relaxed and open to conversation. They playfully banter back and forth, laughing lightly and breezing through easy topics, wearily avoiding tense subjects. 

The two are wandering around the inside of a broken down coffee shop, eyes wandering over the rusting machinery, when the slip up happens. Mabel had been regaling her companion with a her _‘most embarrassing story from when she was still young and innocent’_ (Mabel had smacked the assassin when he snorted at the innocent part) and through his laughter, Malum had managed, “Oh really? You don’t think the time you dressed Waddles as Stan and tried to convince the tourists it was him so no one would notice you had accidentally drugged the man is _less embarrassing_?” 

Mabel froze, whipping around to stare at him, who sobered up under her gaze. There was fear in Malum’s eyes- he knew he had screwed up- when Mabel breathed, “How do you know that?” 

The assassin swallowed thickly, “I-” 

The young woman interrupted him, “No excuses, Malum. How the _hell_ do you know that? I’ve never told you that, and no one here apart from Wendy and Soos know that and they would never think to tell you that.” Malum shifts, mahogany irises drifting everywhere except her. Mabel can feel her scowl deepening out of frustration, and just as she opens her mouth to question him again, realization hits her. Maple eyes widen, “You know Dipper.” 

“What? No, I d-” 

“Stop. Just stop. There’s no point in pretending you don’t, alright?” She takes a tentative step toward Malum, who looks like a kicked puppy, “Why didn’t you mention it before?” 

There’s shock surprise in the assassin’s eyes, but his features quickly harden into a passive look, “It isn’t an easy topic for me to focus on. And I didn’t bother bringing it up because I don’t know what happened to your brother,” the assassin rolls his eyes when Mabel raises an unconvinced eyebrow, “I honestly don’t, alright? We knew each other briefly... he was a real sweet kid, nice person, but then Master Cipher wanted him for something. After that I never saw Dipper again.” 

Mabel softens, feeling the prickling of tears in her eyes, “Oh… heh, sounds like my sappy brother alright. So… he just disappeared?” She can feel the spark of hope she had worked so hard to maintain begin to flicker and die. 

Malum must be able to sense her despair, because he murmurs in a comforting, soft voice, “Hey, I said he disappeared, not died. Master Cipher has a huge territory and probably moved him to a different sector. Master Cipher did that when he thought there was a recipe for disaster and rebellion with a certain combination of his pupils.” 

The brunette’s head whips up at that, “Wait, Dipper was a _student_ of Bill’s?” 

“Yes. One of his favorites, in fact… I might even dare to venture and say Master Cipher may have favored the boy.” 

She lets the information play over in her mind, processing the different pieces, before blinking in surprise, “What was so threatening about Dipper staying put?” 

Malum hangs his head at that, so Mabel pushes on, “ _What happened?_ ”

The assassin sighs shakily, a hand rubbing lightly at the area of his lower back where the shooting star tattoo was located, “I- I’m not talking about this. I apologize, but I hate this particular event and don’t wish to discuss it.” 

There’s a bitterness in his voice that deters the brunette from continuing her investigation, _for now_. Mabel will get back up for this particular discussion. After a couple awkwards seconds, she pipes up happily, “Well, I won’t push you. C’mon,” she links her arm through the assassin’s, “Let’s go check out the rest of this scrappy place!” 

The awkwardness and tension in the air dissipates when they return to their sightseeing. When Stan, Ford, Soos, and Wendy finally make their way back, the two have been wandering around over two hours, now relaxing by drinking old lemonade in the shade of the RV. 

“There they are,” Mabel calls out, “Did you guys get it?” 

Uncle Ford nods, clutching his satchel tighter, “Yes… but it isn’t anywhere near the size of the last one. We almost missed it.” 

The assassin sitting at Mabel’s side raises an eyebrow, “How big is the crystal?” 

Reaching into the satchel, the scientist pulls out a luminous crystal slightly smaller than a dime. Mabel snorts, “Impressive.” 

“It still holds the same amount of power as the other one, possibly greater.” Malum mumbles around his bottle of lemonade. 

Mabel wrinkles her nose, “Yeah but it’s kinda anticlimactic.” 

The others roll their eyes, moving to the vehicles to sort through their belongings. Mabel shoots to her feet, “Hey, Grunkle Stan, Ford, can we talk?” 

The aged twins look at their niece, confused, but apparently her expression is desperate enough. Stan shrugs, “Sure. How ‘bout we go into the convenience store for more privacy?” 

The brunette nods eagerly, then the trio head into the convenience store, leaving a weary assassin gazing after them. 

  
  
  


Grunkle Stan’s face is set like stone, eyes blazing- not that Ford is much better- after hearing what Mabel had to say. She glances between the two nervously, unsure of how they will react to the news. 

“So Spook _does_ have information on Dipper?” Stan growls, unconsciously cracking his knuckles. 

“I’m guessing. And something happened, I mean Malum got so upset when I asked about him.” 

Mabel’s maple irises dart to Ford, who has stayed silent, eyes thoughtful, careful. A hand rubs at his chin, “We’ll definitely need to question him about it. Especially if Bill- how did he put it? ‘Favored him’? That doesn’t sound good.” 

“I just don’t get it, why didn’t he tell us about Dipper? I mean, we’ve talked about him and everything, so why not?” Mabel huffs in frustration, kicking a nearby shelf. 

Surprisingly, it’s Stanford that rises to the assassin’s defence, “Bill no doubt threatened him. He wouldn’t want us to have any information on Dipper at all, so my guess is… _Malum_ is under restrictions.” 

“I know, it’s just… I thought he would have understood how important this was to me.” The brunette says bitterly. 

Stan grins at Mabel, “Don’t worry, sweetie, we’ll get him talking.” 

  
  
  


Dipper is tempted to eavesdrop on Mabel and his uncles, but decides against it. If they want privacy he wouldn’t interrupt them, hoping they would return that curtesy. With nothing else to do and being exhausted, Dipper hauls himself to his feet, climbing into the RV. He heads to the back, where he and Mabel had watched the movie, curling up on the pillows so that his back is securely pressed against the wall. 

He just lays there for a couple minutes, thinking about the afternoon he had spent with Mabel. Dipper had wanted to beat his head with a brick when he had slipped up, because honestly that was just stupid. At least Mabel had dropped the subject… though Dipper doubts he is out of that issue yet. 

With a sigh, Dipper waves a hand, a magical barrier building around him to protect him while he sleeps. Closing his eyes, Dipper is out of it within five minutes. He’s about to begin relaxing for the first time since the journey began, when he realizes- _this isn’t the dreamscape_. 

The assassin bolts up, darting eyes confirming the new gray monochromes of his surroundings. Dipper straightens his posture, attempting to even his breathing and eliminate emotions before _he_ arrives. 

It takes several minutes for the demon to make his appearance. A sharp tapping sound motivates Dipper to blink open his eyes, gazing at the tall blond towering over him. Golden irises meet his mahogany, “Pinetree, long time no see~!” Bill practically sings, dropping down to kneel in front of the assassin. 

Dipper instinctively bows his head, “Master Cipher, it’s a pleasure to see you again so soon.” 

Bill coos, a gloved hand reaching out to grip Dipper’s chin as he removes the assassin’s mask. The demon turns the boy’s head from side to side, studying his face, “Aw, the manners you possess truly astonish me, Pinetree.” A finger traces the black triangle tattooed over his right eye, “So, give me an update on the progress of the crew. They’ve made it farther than I thought they would within a week.” 

“We collected the first crystal in Duluth- it is roughly the size of a baseball- the one Stanford collected just now however is barely the size of a dime.” 

The demon frowns at that, “That’s disappointing. But now to the important question,” The hand gripping Dipper’s chin tightens painfully, “Do they know who you are?” 

Dipper quickly shakes his head, “No, they do not suspect anything. However, they believe me to be acquainted with the Dipper Pines.’ 

Golden irises light up with surprise and amusement as the demon laughs, “Well, let’s keep it that way.” Bill rises to his feet, “Since you haven’t had a failure yet, I suppose I have no reason to stick around.” 

Before Bill can leave, Dipper speaks up, “Wait!” The demon raises an eyebrow at the interruption, gaze cold and calculating, “Master Cipher, you will keep to your word won’t you? You won’t hurt the Pines after this is all over?” 

The assassin’s words cause the demon to freeze. Bill tilts his head, eyes boring into Dipper, “No… you’ve developed _feelings_?” He hisses angrily, landing a swift kick to Dipper’s head.

He crashes into a pile of pillows and the wall, bringing his arms up to shield him from further assaults, “No! But they are good people who have done nothing out of line while on this mission even though they are in possession of potential _weapons_ so I believe their wish to be left alone should be respected!” 

A feral growl sounds from Bill, causing Dipper to flinch, “I will be ripping their hearts out personally the second this deal is through and done with. I don’t care if I’m not following through on my word, I am the _king of this world, so who would stop me anyway_?” 

Dipper chooses to stay silent rather than respond. There’s no reason to piss the demon off further. A painful grip is yanking his head painfully to look at the demon again. Bill’s golden irises have shifted to a blood red and his teeth are unnaturally sharp, giving him a feral look, “I’ll deal with you later, but I have better things to be doing right now.” 

This time, Dipper doesn’t stop Bill from leaving, slumping against the wall once the demon has left. The assassin groans, a hand coming to test the area where Bill had kicked him, and sure enough- blood. Wincing, Dipper sits up, eyes traveling around the space of the RV. 

He’s pissed, of course. There was a deal, not just with Ford but with himself from seven years ago- that the Pines would remain untouched and _safe_ from Bill’s torment. Dipper had already been pissed when Bill had mentioned the new deal, but had bit back any remarks with the promise they would be left alone once this deal was through. 

_The bastard just lies, lies, and lies_ , the voice hisses, though in the mindscape the sound vibrates throughout the entire room. Apparently the voice is just as fond of the Pines- particularly Mabel- as himself. _You know we can’t let him do this, Dipper. We have to protect them._

Dipper nods, “But how am I supposed to do that? I have no where near the power to even stand a chance against Bill.” 

_The navitas crystals… they have enough power._

He tries to resist the urge to roll his eyes- and fails miserably- “Okay, but I don’t know how to wield one of those crystals.” 

The voice doesn’t respond immediately, as though thinking carefully. _What if we… absorb… the power?_

Mahogany eyes widen, the thought sparking an idea in Dipper’s mind. He knows what to do, how to become an equal force to the demon. His face hardens in determination. Dipper wouldn’t let anything happen to his family. _Not this time_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I hope you guys enjoyed it, despite the lateness. I have a better idea of what comes in the next chapter so I'll try and have it up by Wednesday/Thursday evening/night.  
> (by the way I follow the Pacific time zone, so updates may come at really weird times depending on where you live)
> 
> Again, comments are always welcome! Love you guys! <3


	9. Breathing the Life Back into Our Embers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dipper's plans are finally being ignited as he prepares for what will come at the end of the journey. And the mention of an old foe ruffles some feathers.
> 
> Oh, and sass. Lots of sass.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woah, I uploaded it a whole day or two before I said I would! Moments like these are what make me believe in miracles. Hehe, anyway, so I was officially sick yesterday and didn't attend school, so this was how I amused myself. I am very excited this chapter has been officially written, because this one will have a snowball effect for Dipper in the chapters to come so yay!
> 
> Anyway, I won't distract you any longer (I'm not entirely sure anyone actually reads this, but if you are, hi!), go enjoy the update! (or don't enjoy it, do whatever)

Sneaking his way into Stanford’s collection of items was not nearly as hard as it should have been. Dipper had been expecting some sort of alarm system or way to detect an unwelcome guest. Instead, all the assassin had needed to be on his merry way was a simple invisibility spell and then he waited for the others go about their business- which for the most part was relaxing and napping. Mabel never did return to his side, instead chatting and laughing alongside Soos and Wendy, which Dipper tries to convince himself is perfectly reasonable. 

Stanford and Stanley had left nearly half an hour earlier to stake out a decent place to set up camp in hopes of escaping the close quarters of the vehicles for a couple days. The other three are distracted enough that they don’t bother checking what Dipper is up to. Which is sifting through Stanford’s stuff in a nook of the RV that is unnoticeable if you aren’t specifically looking for it.

 _this is so cliche,_ the voice practically snickers.

Dipper rolls his eyes, “Shut up, just help me do this quickly before someone walks in and I have to make some lame excuse. I suck at improvising.” 

If a voice that has no physical body can cluck its tongue, that is definitely what the pest is currently doing, _Oh calm down, Bambi. I was merely surprised and disappointed that someone as cautious and suspicious as **the Stanford Pines, author of the journals** , didn’t go to greater lengths to hide something this important._

“Maybe he didn’t realize I was napping back here. Probably thought I was off killing something in the woods.” He scowls, a deep frown sculpting his face beneath the mask, “Wait, why the hell am I being called _Bambi_ of all things?” 

_I don’t know. When you aren’t scowling or stiff as a fucking pole you have this soft look. And you have doe-eyes._

“You know what? I’m done talking to you. You’re just as bad as the _real_ people I have to deal with. And you’re in my head.” 

_I feel offended by that comment. I am completely real._

Pushing the annoying rambling in his mind aside, Dipper continues sorting through the contents of Stanford’s bags and coat pockets. Carefully, of course, making sure not to move things so much as to raise suspicion. The scientist has a lot of weapons. Like, _a lot_. And Dipper thought he was paranoid. None appear to be incredibly powerful in the way of strong monsters or demons, though he probably has a stash of those somewhere less available and much safer. Then there are the blueprints for different machines, all fairly elaborate and written in varying languages of the other dimensions- this is probably one of the few instances Dipper will ever be thankful Bill forced him to learn them. 

Overall, the contents are very impressive and intriguing, and the assassin really wishes he had more time to invest in the study of it all, but the looming threat of being discovered is too great. His gloved hands are just reaching the bottom of the box when they brush across a large rectangular box. A slight pulse travels through his fingertips like static, leaving warmth and twitchy nerves in its wake. 

He huffs, hauling the metal box out from the depths of papers and machinery while still trying not to disturb too much. Dipper sets it on the rough carpeted floor, nimble fingers unhooking the protective latches quickly while mumbling a spell to undo the lock, and flicks the lid open. Inside, two round objects are wrapped in a heavy ruby cloth. Dipper ignores the larger one, turning his attention to the ball that can easily fit in his palm. With care, he unwraps the crystal, holding it between the dazzling stone between to fingers, studying it thoughtfully.

“So the crystal won’t lose its power if we break it, correct?” He asks the voice doubtfully. 

Oh, talking with _me_ again, are we? And yes, the crystal should not lose any power if broken. After all, you are just changing its shape and form. You aren’t actually changing the magical content or makeup. I recommend physically breaking it- don’t use magic to do it because I have no idea what will happen if you do. His mental companion sounds thoughtful and certain enough that Dipper trusts its judgement. 

Once the crystal is stuffed into his pocket, Dipper carefully reorganizes everything, placing all of Stanford’s belongings back to resemble what he began with. The assassin then rises to his feet, grabbing a bottle of water before hopping out of the RV. 

The three young adults are still animatedly talking with one another, though now seated in the back of the truck. Cautiously, the assassin approaches, giving a small wave when they notice him walking over. When the trio fall silent, Dipper says in a light and hopefully unsuspicious voice, “Hey, I’m going to go check out the forest around us. Make sure there isn’t anything too dangerous lurking in the area that we should be aware of. I shouldn’t take too long.” 

Soos and Wendy give small nods and Mabel calls out to Dipper as he turns away to head into the forest, “Alright, but be careful, Malum! Be back before sunset!” 

Dipper looks over his shoulder at his sister, giving a tentative smile and a small wave, then continues into the woods. The farther he goes, the more relaxed Dipper becomes, his eyes fluttering shut as he breathes in the natural scents of earth and pine, the air crisp. The assassin walks for about ten minutes, listening in to the chirping birds and chittering squirrels above while staying alert for any signs and sounds of a threat. That’s the funny thing about the apocalypse. It was almost as though anything that wanted to wreak havoc and create chaos preferred to do so to the human civilization, leaving the nature and critters alone for the most part. 

When he deems he has traveled far enough that the Pines won’t disturb him- and has actually checked to make sure they haven’t followed him- Dipper summons a weapon from his storage and pulls out the crystal. The hammer definitely isn’t one of his favorite weapons, as it was always too awkward for Dipper when it came to wielding it, but it was a useful tool. The head is a large rectangle made of a dark, ash gray metal that is inscribed in a language of another dimension, the hilt wrapped in leather and fitted to his hand rather well. He chose this particular beauty because of the strength spell embedded in its core, which should hopefully help him with the task of actually breaking the crystal. Since he was going to physically break it himself, it shouldn’t count as a use of magic on the crystal… hopefully.

Looking around the clearing he has chosen for the job, Dipper spots a large smooth, flat stone at the edge of a creek. Kneeling on the cold stone, Dipper places the crystal on it, gazing at it curiously before blinking, raising the hammer. With a quick, well-aimed swing, the hammer lands heavily on the crystal, which shatters with the sound of a couple hundred mirrors breaking. Wincing, Dipper cups his ears for a couple seconds, easing the hammer to drop at his side before turning his attention to the remains of the crystal.

The shimmering orb has split into five uneven pieces, but more importantly they still sparkle and radiate magic, so no true damage was done.

The voice murmurs a suggestion, _you should probably crush it into more a powder if you’re going to do this. It would be much more comfortable and less painful that way._

He chooses to follow the advice, using the hammer to grind the crystal fragments into a fine pearly-silver powder that resembles glitter. Dipper uses magic to gather it all into a pile, then pours it into his bottle of water. After stirring the mixture a good few minutes, the water has become a silvery liquid that resembles mercury but doesn’t look nearly as thick. 

“So I just drink it?” Dipper really should have thought this all through before completely mutilating the stone of power. 

The voice sighs, _Yes, drink the magic crystal water._

“What are the odds this will kill me?” 

A thoughtful pause, _Any normal human would probably have less than a five percent chance of living after consuming that. But you aren’t normal, Dipper, hell I’m almost certain you aren’t completely human after everything Bill has done these past seven years, with the demon blood and experiments…_ It must be able to sense his uncertainty, because it continues with a much softer yet much more compelling argument, _Besides… you’re doing this for **Mabel** , remember? You can’t let her and the others down… not when we have the chance to protect them for good_ Sharp jaw clenching, Dipper nods in agreement, taking one last look at the mirror-like fluid before downing it in a few large gulps.

A deep shudder courses through the assassin’s body, a heavily shaking hand quickly dropping the cheap plastic bottle which is now crushed. There’s a warmth quickly spreading through his body, and Dipper would call it comforting if it wasn’t immediately followed by the sensation of acid and fire racing through his veins. Dipper pulls the glove off his left hand and stuffs it in his mouth to stifle the screams and cries of pain that are beginning to stream from his mouth. 

The assassin falls flat on his back, arching up and spasming uncontrollably. Bright colors flash in his mind and derail any train of thought he has left at this point. A loud ringing sound that is just _too high_ pierces his eardrums. Tears squeeze out of eyes that are snapped shut, rolling off his cheeks onto the stone underneath him and his jaw is clenching painfully around the glove- Dipper is fairly certain he has torn the fabric at this point. 

_I’m going to die. I’m going to die. I’m going to die._ plays on repeat in his head until Dipper passes out. 

  


With a choked groan, Dipper slowly blinks open heavy eyelids, wincing at the brightness of his surroundings. Very sluggishly, the assassin sits up and removes the glove from his mouth, stabilizing himself using his hands when the world began to sway. Once the world is no longer spinning, Dipper raises a hand to take off his mask. It’s not that it actually gets in the way of breathing, but it can feel claustrophobic at times like this. He takes long, deliberate breaths, attempting to slow his racing heart to a more comforting pace. 

He sits like this for a while, taking his time in recovering from the ordeal while distracting himself by studying his surroundings. Finally, after nearly ten minutes of deep breaths in the nose and out the mouth, Dipper rises shakily to his feet, checking himself over. 

“Oh my god… _I’m not dead_! I thought I was going to _die_ , man that sucked.” The assassin laughs, relieved. 

_Heh, yeah I was kind of worried there for a second, you really scared me. But, I mean it was **so** worth it. Can’t you just **feel the power**_ you have now? The voice sounds just as relieved as himself, though slightly ecstatic.

“Actually, now that you mention it…” Dipper frowns, closing his eyes and desperately trying to focus inward on himself, on his magic, on his soul. “I don’t feel any different. At all, really. Just really sore.” 

A small hum, _Well, don’t worry. You are significantly more powerful now. You could definitely take Bill on, hell even win with the right strategy and technique._

“I guess I’ll just have to trust you on this… Wait, how long was I out?” The memory of Mabel’s words come flooding back to him. 

_A little less than an hour, nothing too big. If they ask about it, just say there was a couple of nasty monsters that needed to be taken care of. You look tired enough for that to be convincing._

And so Dipper makes his way back- after making sure his mask was set back on his face, of course- through the vibrant and healthy undergrowth, stumbling a little more on the way back than before. When the RV and truck are in view, Dipper feels himself relax- and tense, if that makes sense; like, relaxed because _finally thank god_ we made it back alive but tense because they can’t know what he was doing- and speeds up ever so slightly. He glances around, looking for Mabel, until he spots her standing in a huddle with the others, including the older twins. 

Dipper approaches slowly, mostly because everything hurts like hell but at the same time he doesn’t want them to be spooked by his sudden appearance. Stanford’s head snaps in his direction when he hears the assassin approaching, hazel eyes narrowing slightly. The others turn to look at him, an expression of confusion and question at his tired and worn down appearance. 

Mabel is the first to address him, unsurprisingly, a small pout spreading across her features, “Malum, what happened? You look terrible, and you were gone longer than you made it sound like you would be.” 

Pressing a hand into his lower back, Dipper winces, “There were a couple of unfriendly monsters around… kind of ganged up on me, but there shouldn’t be anymore to disrupt you guys.” 

Stanford nods firmly, “Thank you, for that. Anyway, we were discussing setting up a camp at a hotel further in the town for a couple days since we are ahead of schedule. Take some time to plan out the route we want to take to our next destination and our plan of attack.” 

Dipper just nods, not bothering to say anything, fatigue taking its toll on him. With a final collective nod throughout the group, they all walk towards the two vehicles, Wendy and Soos taking the truck while Ford, Stan, and Mabel move towards the RV. Dipper goes to follow, and stumbles _again_ because apparently drinking powerful crystal juice really does a number on you. 

Luckily, Mabel is at his side in an instant, wrapping an arm around his waist to help support him. She gives him a worried look, “Are you sure you’re okay? Nothing hurt you too bad, right?” 

“Yeah,” he breathes, brow drawn together in concentration, “I’m fine. Just really tired, that’s all.” 

His sister purses her lips, but says nothing, just continues to help him walk to the RV and then up the stairs. Dipper’s knees give out next to the driver’s seat, which wouldn’t be so bad if it was just Stanley and Stanford wasn’t in the passenger’s seat. The scientist raises an eyebrow at him, studying the young man, but says nothing. Mabel kneels next to him as the RV rumbles to life in a deep, mechanical purr. 

For a moment, the four sit in a comforting silence as they slowly creep into the abandoned town. Then Stanford gets bored, or something, “So… _Malum_ what was it like being Bill’s apprentice? What was required of you, what rules were there to follow?” 

The assassin swallows thickly, staring at his hands in his lap, thinking his response over. “It was challenging, Master Cipher expected us to be able to compete equally with the lesser demons, which was really hard when we had just begun our training. It wasn’t very fun for the most part.” 

The scientist raises an eyebrow at that, adjusting his cracked glasses, “For the most part?” 

He shrugs, “There were other students, and we had roommates. Everyone was paired off and everything so they had a partner. My partner was very mischievous, had a lot of fire in their soul… we would try to escape a lot… hoped we could find some group like yours to seek refuge in...” 

“Wouldn’t Bill just kill you if you tried to escape?”

“...My partner and I… we were two of his favorite students… and I think he found it amusing when we were younger to see how creative and elaborate our plans were… but yes eventually he did get tired and annoyed with us for it…” 

Mabel looks at him, voice soft, “But you’re still here?” 

Dipper sighs heavily, trying to reign in the swirling emotions pushing against his chest, “Yes, _I_ am here. _I_ was lucky enough to only walk away with scars…” 

The young woman looks confused, but her uncle has a look of sad understanding above him, “But your partner, I’m assuming, did not?” 

He just stares at the carpet, which is a response in itself, and Mabel whispers, slightly horrified, “You didn’t have to _watch_ them die, right?” 

The assassin chuckles darkly at her words, “Seeing as I was being possessed by him at the time… yes, I watched them die, even got front row seats…” 

Mabel and Stanford stiffen, and Stanley probably does too but Dipper can’t see him from his position. He is the first one to speak up, however, “Why would you fight for him after the jackass did something like that to you? What’s the point?” 

“When you’re in my kind of situation, you lose hope. Seven years ago, I had the hope that I could escape or my family might come to rescue me. But after five years of failing in both areas and then being forced to kill your best friend because _you tried_ you lose all hope of that ever happening. And it’s not like I could even kill myself if I wanted to,” Dipper says bitterly, “I would know, I’ve tried before. But Cipher just brings you back because you don’t get to make those decisions for yourself anymore. Not your choice, it’s _his_.” 

An awkward silence follows his speech, and nobody mentions the informal slip of Bill’s name to the assassin. The three Pines process the information until the RV creaks to a halt, doors springing open and releasing a sad assassin from the possible inquiry they have for him. 

Dipper honestly _hates_ all the emotional bullshit that is coming from this trip. Three years after the incident, he had finally contained all emotions and all weaknesses to please the demon, and just being in the presence of other people, no less his _family_ was enough to break him. 

The voice chooses to make another appearance, though the usual snark is nowhere to be found, _Hey, you alright? Got kinda of heated and… emotional back there._

He runs a shaky hand through his hair, a deep and frustrated sigh resonating through his chest, “I’ve been better. Honestly, they are always so pushy, I think they enjoy getting me emotional. And I’m exhausted, which is not a good combination. And everything hurts because of the stupid magic juice.” 

_Alright, jeez, don’t need to go off on a rant. And I’m not trying to undermine ladies- because lord knows they go through way too much in comparison to men- but you honestly just described a period._

“...Fuck off.” 

The voice cackles, _Hey, I’m just saying!_

Wendy and Soos are already walking up to the hotel that will become the makeshift camp, heaving the once automatic glass doors open. A quick scan of the place using magic confirms the place to be abandoned- no monsters or demons taking residence here. Dipper walks into the lobby, clapping his hands twice and the lights flicker on in a warm golden glow. 

Wendy eyes him out of the corner of her eye, “That’s pretty cool. And useful. Maybe having you around won’t be a complete waste.” 

Soos laughs, “Hey, dude, you wouldn’t be able to get microwaves and stoves functioning, would you?” Dipper shrugs with a small nod, “Oh, sweet! We could make some nachos or something!” Wendy snorts at that, making some snide remark that results in the two playfully squabbling.

While they’re distracted, Dipper decides to find a room to pass out in. He stays on the first floor since it would take too much focus to climb the stairs or start up the elevator. The door clicks shut behind him, more lights flickering on in response to his presence in the room. Dipper snaps to clean up all the dust and dirt, then promptly collapses on the bed and passes out. 

  


Dipper wakes to the feeling of a hand softly rubbing his shoulder. He sits up, a hand rubbing at his eyes before looking over to, unsurprisingly, see Mabel kneeling on the edge of the bed. She smiles at him, “Hey, sorry for waking you, but you’ve been asleep for like sixteen hours so I don’t feel too bad. Fighting those monsters really took a lot out of you, huh?” Dipper just nods slowly, still not fully awake. “Look, I just wanted to apologize for yesterday. We didn’t realize what lines we were crossing until we had already done it and you were upset and gone before we could say anything.” 

He studies Mabel’s face, then quietly says, “Thank you.” 

She nods, one hand running over the crisp white bedsheets, “Also, Stanford wanted you there to discuss our possible routes. Not just to Hamilton County, but all the way to Gravity Falls.” Dipper nods. 

He slides off the edge of the bed, feet landing lightly on the floor, then Dipper takes account of his appearance. Deciding he should probably change, Dipper closes his eyes, focusing on a particular outfit in storage. An indigo turtleneck and black skinny jeans, swapping combat boots for a pair of comfy sneakers. He turns to look at Mabel, confused at her astonished and excited expression. 

“Woah, that was so cool! Your clothes just started glowing and then BAM! You have these brand new clothes on! That must be really handy.” 

Dipper hums in agreement, “It’s incredibly helpful in battle- it allows me to switch armor types to better match my opponent.” 

Mabel grins, “That is so cool. Anyway, let’s go.” She takes his hand lightly, leading him out of the room. They pass through the warm lobby and head into the area that must have been the dining room back in the day. The family has pushed several tables together and spread out the map once more. Different routes are suggested and altered over plates of breakfast. 

Stanley glances at the pair when they walk in, and murmurs something to his brother. Stanford instantly turns, gaze lighting up at the sight of his niece and the assassin grabbing plates of sausage and potato chips- a traditional and nutritious breakfast, “Ah, perfect. Malum, I want your input on the different possible routes that can be taken to reach Gravity Falls. I figure you probably have a better understanding of the danger zones and such than we would.” 

The assassin shuffles over to the map, eyes taken in the different pathways they had drawn up. _Dipper, you know the quickest way over-_ , the voice starts, but Dipper cuts it off. 

“Yes, I am well aware of the fastest and lowest risk route over the mountains and into Oregon.” 

_Then tell them._

Dipper contains a dramatic eyeroll, not wanting to draw more attention to himself, “Oh yes, and they are going to take the information _so_ well.” 

The voice sighs exasperatedly, _look, nobody wants to see that **traitor** but what choice do we have? Bill has ensured any other way over those mountains is a certain death sentence if you aren’t on personal business for him. Besides… maybe we could screw shit up before we leave…_

He clears his throat, moving closer to the map and looking up at the scientist who is already attentively watching him. “Um, right. So, the good news is there is one way to get over the mountains to Oregon without facing certain death. It’s fairly safe, not much different than what we’ve already done as long as we add wards to the vehicles to make us more undetectable for monsters and demons.” 

Stanford raises an eyebrow, so Dipper continues, “Bad news… the other student that got through Bi- _Master Cipher’s_ training is the master of the road. We have to pass through his land and get his permission to use it.” 

Stanley furrows his brow, “That can’t be too hard, right? Just suck up to the guy, kiss the ground he walks on and we’ll be through?” 

Dipper visibly winces, “Well… it’ll already be bad enough that _I’m_ on the team. He hates me. We… didn’t get along real well back in training. I tried to get him killed, blah blah blah.” 

The group groans, Stanford pinching the bridge of his nose, “Of course you would have a history with the person we desperately need to please.” 

He snorts at that, “Oh please. Like you guys can talk.” Dipper gets five incredibly confused gazes, “Stanley and Mabel aren’t exactly on great terms with the guy themselves.” 

Mabel raises an eyebrow, her expression incredulous , “Oh please, who could _we_ know that could be this mystery guy?” 

“I’m sure you’re all familiar and acquainted with Gideon Gleeful?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, I hope you enjoyed this chapter! This one had a very easy flow for me, which is usually a good sign, but what do I know? Feel free to leave a kudos and/or a comment, they are always much appreciated and enjoyed. I love hearing what you guys particularly enjoyed about each chapter and your thoughts on the future of the story.
> 
> Next chapter should be up by Friday/Saturday at the latest. **Note- The chapter will be late due to easter shenanigans, i apologize**  
> Love you guys! 
> 
> ~Novusavis


	10. The Moments and Memories that Bind Us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flashbacks from Dipper's point of view to times before he was the dark sinnamon roll we know him to be.
> 
>  
> 
> _"As the girl hardens and sets her face to look expressionless and strong, Dipper makes up his mind._
> 
>  
> 
> _'It was me.' The two say in sync. The girl’s head whips around to look at Dipper, honey and spring green eyes wide with shock and surprise. He sends her a small and yet firm and confident nod in her direction, then returns his attention to the beast, eyes burning with a strong, fiery determination. "_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to throw bricks at me. I apologize for the lack of updates. I had originally planned to update a lot over spring break, but the thought of writing was stressing me out and I was trying to relax so I just avoided it and drew a bunch. :/
> 
> Anyway, I rewrote this chapter a couple times. None of the previous drafts felt right and I didn't want to upload something crappy. Anyway, I debated a lot about this chapter, like if it was going to be a flashback, which character's POV, etc. so I am glad to have this done. And I am pretty happy with the outcome.
> 
> I have wanted to do this bit of backstory for a while, and I wanted to do the characters justice and wanted to show the relationship between them. Anyway, this is one of my favorite chapters because Dipper hasn't been officially broken yet and he isn't making some heartbreaking decision.
> 
> Also, if you hated me for the last cliffhanger, I am so, so sorry. (just kidding I love cliffhangers mwahaha)

**Seven Years Ago**

_Dipper had been waiting, along with the other kidnapped teens, in the large stone chamber for over a week. He had found a small hiding spot to shiver in, tucking himself closer to the wall whenever a demon or monster passed through. The creatures brought out the curiosity in the boy, of course, but after witnessing one tear a fifteen-year-old girl apart Dipper wasn’t really interested in pissing anyone or anything off._

_Bill had been briefly breezing in and out of the area whenever he had a new couple of shaking teens to drop off. After taking in everything and analyzing all that had and was happening, Dipper assumes the dream demon has a specific criteria that they all meet… what that criteria is, the young teen has no clue. The youth present come from varying ethnicities, backgrounds, and ages. But there had to be some sort of connection, some way they all could relate to one another._

_A deep growling and rumbling sound disturbs Dipper from his thoughts, the brunet’s eyes darting around suspiciously, seeking any demonic threat in his vicinity. It turns out to be nothing more than an old army green jeep rolling through to drop supplies off elsewhere. A couple of the kids have to dodge the vehicle as the demons driving swerve to try and hit them._

_One unlucky guy… Trent? Dipper thinks his name is Trent- a nice guy, actually. Incredibly sweet and generous, very protective of the younger teens there- has been cornered on the far side of the chamber, away from the group. It doesn’t look like there’s much hope for him, so the group look away, wincing, when suddenly a rock has been launched from someone to the right of Dipper. It shoots through the air- a really nice throw, very clean and quick, so it must have been someone who knew what they were doing- and crashes through the jeep window. And hits the demon who was driving square in the neck._

_A small gasp travels through the group, everyone turning to look in the direction the rock came from with wide, shocked eyes. The demon storms out of the jeep, slamming the doors shut with a loud crash. It is hissing furiously and has a hand cupping the back of its neck, eyes blazing a toxic green with slitted pupils - overall the look screams murder._

_The creature stops a couple feet short of the group, eyes scanning their faces. “ **Which of you obnoxious swine,** ” It growls, “ **thought it would be amusing to throw a rock at me?** ”_

_For a few seconds, there is no response. Just utter silence, the air so thick with fear, panic, and shock that you could probably reach out a hand a grab a fistfull of it. Then, a couple people glance in the direction the rock came from, probably out of nerves. Sadly, they are to Dipper’s left, which means they also glanced in his direction. And now he’s in the suspect pool._

_The demon begins to pace, growing taller and more intimidating with each heavy step, shadow stretching to cover them all in a blanket of darkness, “ **Well? I don’t have all day, and if you turn them over, I won’t hurt the handsome one,** ” Everyone stills at those words. The majority here like Trent. And If up to the demon, his death won’t be quick or painless. But no one steps forward. The dark creature sighs heavily, as though disappointed, and turns back to Trent, long and sharp claws extending as it trudges in his direction. _

_Out of the corner of his eye, Dipper can see a girl- probably about his age- step forward, hands shaking. His eyes widen as he turns to study her. She is wearing a cotton candy pink sweater with an assortment of sweets printed around the hem, her dark crimson hair pulled back in a neat fishtail braid with a matching bow. To tie in the look, she has a sky blue skirt that cuts off slightly above the knee and knee high white socks. She… she reminds the brunet of his sister. As the girl hardens and sets her face to look expressionless and strong, Dipper makes up his mind._

_“ **It was me.** ” The two say in sync. The girl’s head whips around to look at Dipper, honey and spring green eyes wide with shock and surprise. He sends her a small and yet firm and confident nod in her direction, then returns his attention to the beast, eyes burning with a strong, fiery determination. _

_The demon’s gleaming eyes dart between the two, a deep frown tugging on its face. It stalks back towards them, hunched back giving off the impression of a wild animal, “ **Hmm. As fun as it would be to kill both of you, Bill would have my head. So, which one of you is lying to me?** ” The girl says nothing and neither does Dipper. Instead they both hold a heavy gaze with the demon, eyes challenging. The demon growls, “ **Fine, be stubborn. I’ll just rip one of your throats out and call it even, ‘kay?” He turns to Dipper, long fangs exposed by the snarl gripping his features, lengthening his claws some more. Dipper just raises his chin higher, locking his jaw and tensing his muscles so they don’t betray him and send him running away.**_

_Just as Dipper takes a deep breath through his nose, just as the demon raises its clawed hand as it prepares to strike him down, a voice speaks up from behind him, “Wait! They’re both lying, I did it!”_

_Dipper remains stoic, keeping his emotions in check and not playing across his face as he glances back. An older girl has stepped forward, glaring at the demon, her hands clenched into fists. Off to his left, another person calls out, “Oh fuck off and stop taking **my** glory. I threw the rock at you, Sir Douchebag.” And then another voice pipes up, and then another. And Dipper wants to laugh because oh my god he was not expecting this to happen. _

_The demon’s eyes narrow, hand lowering as its eyes follow the confessions that are spreading like wildfire. It snarls savagely, about to snap out a retort of some sort, when a booming voice echoes throughout the cavern, “What is going on here?” Dipper turns, eyes settling on the golden triangle that floats on the outskirts of the group and twirls a thin black cane between its fingers._

_The demon splutters, eyes widening while the sickening glow in them fades, “Lord Cipher! I wasn’t expecting you back so soon.”_

_Bill waves a hand lazily, looking as annoyed as a one-eyed triangle can, “Yeah yeah, whatever. **I asked you what was going on. Why were you about to slice the neck open of one of the chosen children?** ” _

_“Sir, one of these gremlins assaulted me. I was just trying to punish the perpetrator, but these two both stepped forward to take the blame and-”_

_“How were you assaulted?” Bill is eying Dipper and the girl curiously._

_“One of them threw a stone and it hi-”_

_“You were going to take the life of one of the humans I have specifically chosen because you were hit by a **rock**?” The bright yellow shade Bill normally dons deviates to a violent shade of red briefly, then Bill regains control, keeping his anger in check. _

_“...Yes.”_

_Bill turns to the group of teenagers, who are still watching wide-eyed, “Alrighty, there has been a slight misunderstanding, but I recommend you don’t tempt my followers further in the future. Now,” The dream demon turns back to his minion, “How about we have a nice **chat?** ” _

_With a snap of his fingers, the demons vanished, leaving the crowd to begin a nervous chatter and disperse back into their usual groups. Dipper glances in the direction of the girl, meeting her gaze with a soft apologetic smile. Slowly, he approaches her._

_Once he is a couple feet away the girl expresses her thanks, “Oh my god, thank you!” She darts forward, flinging her arms around his shoulders in a tight hug, “I was so scared, I didn’t mean for anything to happen, I just didn’t want to watch that guy die.” She takes a deep breath, shuffling a step or two back and glancing at Dipper’s face nervously. “My name is Paige. Paige Roscommon.”_

_“Dipper Pines. Nice to meet you.”_

_Paige snorts, “ **Dipper?** What kind of name is that?” _

_“It’s not my real name, it’s a nickname. I’m just not very fond of my legal name.” The brunet huffs, mahogany eyes rolling, “And that’s funny coming from you, Miss Roscommon.”_

_That earns Dipper a playful glare, “Oh screw off, it’s Irish. You wish you had a surname as cool as mine.”_

_“You’re Irish?” Dipper can feel his eyebrows raise despite his best efforts to keep them still. “I never would have guessed that. I mean, I’m not trying to be racist, but I thought you would have roots in India or something. Again, no offense meant.” Dipper winces._

_Paige just laughs, “Well you aren’t wrong. My mother’s side is from New Delhi.”_

_He makes a small ‘Oh’ and she just laughs again. “So, let’s get to what I really wanted to talk about,” Paige continues, brushing a couple loose hairs out of her face, “Why did you do that? You had no reason to, not that I’m not thankful of course.”_

_“Well… you remind me of my sister. And when I saw you get ready to admit to it, I knew I wouldn’t be able to just watch you die. Or stand by while it happened.” Dipper swallows thickly, glancing guiltily at his new acquaintance, “So sorry if that isn’t as considerate of me.”_

_Instead of looking conflicted or annoyed that it wasn’t just an act of kindness, Paige looks considerate and understanding. “No, it’s fine. I understand- well I mean, not really because I was an only child, but that isn’t the point- what I mean is I get why you would feel obligated to help.” She smiles at him, eyes sparkling, warm, and friendly. And with that, the two fall into an easy conversation._

**Five Years Later**

_Dipper’s brow is furrowed as he concentrates, one hand extended toward the glass orb of magic plasma that rests on the table, eyes studying the spell written in ancient ruins in his spell book. Setting the book down once more, Dipper takes a deep breath, preparing to attempt the spell once more and then the door slams open, spooking him. He jumps slightly, turning to glare at the intruder._

_“Oh don’t give me that look, Dip. I’ve brought food **and** exciting news!” Paige laughs, jokingly reprimanding her friend in a light sing-song voice. She has her dark, thick crimson hair tied up in a sloppy bun, white plastic bags wrapped around her wrists. _

_He groans in response, “Peggy, I was trying to master this spell and- you know what nevermind there is no point in arguing with you.”_

_A smug grin tugs at Paige’s lips as she sets down the plastic bags on the kitchen counter. Reaching in, she pulls out two white containers, which are filled with fried rice and scrambled eggs. “Okay, first item of excitement: Bill finally relented and brought me this giant crate of yarn- it’s on my bed right now I had it dropped off earlier- so I can start knitting again!” Dipper smiles before stuffing his mouth full of food while listening to the girl’s ramblings, “Also, Bill has assigned Sirene to work on locating those crystal thingies since we are still finishing up our training.”_

_Dipper nods, “One less thing to worry about, nice.”_

_“Oh, also, Gideon was being a complete creep today. He kept following me around, probably hoping I would slip up or something.” Her nose crinkles in disgust, “I wish our attempt at pushing him in that pit last year had worked. Now he’s not only still an arrogant brat but he won’t bug off.”_

_Frowning, Dipper replies, “Well, let’s just avoid him for now. I’ve gotten the impression from Bill that he might send the creep off to guard the western pass in the mountains, so he might be out of our hair soon enough.”_

_Paige nods, suddenly seeming hesitant. She lowers her voice, studying Dipper’s face carefully, “I might have found a new way **to get some fresh air.** ”_

_Dipper stiffens at the code- which translates to **escape** \- carefully putting his fork down in the container. He swallows thickly, glancing up at his best friend, at the scar on her right cheek, at the magic collar tattooed around her neck. Underneath the soft lime green sweater she is currently wearing Dipper knows there are countless other scars and marks to remind them of every mistake they made. Every time they stepped out of line. Every time they were willing to show their true colors. Every time they showed they weren’t just some demon’s **puppets**. _

_“Listen, Dipper… I know we’ve failed too many times to count before, we have matching scars to show it. But… I really think this is our chance. I’ve been looking into this spot for weeks, carefully of course, and I’m certain it’s the blind spot we’ve been needing.” The hesitation and doubt must show in his eyes, because Paige continues, voice soft, “We have to try, Dipper. You could see that sweet sister of yours again, imagine that!”_

_There is a heavy, deep throb in his chest, the kind that makes you want to sob and curl in a ball in some dark corner. The idea makes Dipper happy and excited, but… there’s so much risk involved, and it isn’t just him. He’s worried more for Paige than himself. She’s probably the only reason Dipper has bother to continue on at this point. Then again, Paige is the one suggesting the plan, so she must not have any doubts about the success rate. “I want to see this blind spot myself first. And then we plan this all out very thoroughly.”_

_A affectionate smile spreads across her lips once more, eyes that are golden honey and granny apple green swirled together sparkling and bright once more. “Perfect. Let’s finish up our meal first, then we can go check it out. Our triangle is busy planning things out with his assassin squad.”_

_And so, about thirty minutes later, after a fast flowing and humor filled conversation and a satisfying meal, the pair leaves their set apartment. Walking down the hallway is lonely and slightly depressing. It used to be that all the doors lining the dim hallway had two teenagers assigned to them, but five years later only two doors have owners. It’s always been hard, looking at the worn metal doors and the numbers nailed to them, the faces of the kids that lived there forever imprinted on Dipper’s mind._

_Since the apocalypse began, Bill had created quite the palace for himself. The parts the dream demon often frequents are the most elaborate and intricate, very attractive to gaze at. Paige leads Dipper to what must be in the west corner, based on what Dipper can tell by the sun’s position. This is the training sector where the arenas and challenge courses are located, as well as the less sophisticated library (compared to the one they now have access to as elite students). The air here is heavy with magic, a constant buzz of life and energy that can fill a person to the bone with a comforting warmth._

_They have been walking around for nearly fifteen minutes when Paige begins to slow, one hand brushing lightly against the dark stormy gray walls. She freezes, having felt something, and pulls Dipper to her side as she whispers an incantation. A small point underneath her hand begins to glow a light blue, and a small portion of the wall fades away, revealing a doorway. She leads Dipper through it into a circular room that is covered in spells, incantations, and runes, all in varying languages, some ancient and others more recent in development. On the floor is Bill’s wheel, engraved with great detail._

_Paige grips Dipper’s hand, leading him to the wall across from them. There she kneels, pressing her hand against the dark stone. With a murmur the runes under and around her palm are glowing a bright green, her eyes the same vibrant color. She glances at him, “I haven’t translated it completely yet, but once I do we’ll be able to leave.”_

_“Just like that?”_

_Smiling softly, Paige nods, “Just like that.”_

_Dipper glances around the room again, face unreadable. The magic marking this room so heavily ensures Bill can’t see into it, so that is a definite win. It’s also in an area that is located in the training sector, so Bill wouldn’t be suspicious if they were to head down here. It’s **perfect**. Dipper turns back to his friend, who is watching him, “Alright. We can do this. This time for sure.” _

_Paige tackles him in a hug, laughing warmly. They finally have something to look forward to, a fan to blow their embers of hope back into a roaring flame. This is what it feels like to know you’ll be able to **live** again. _

_It is truly a pity that in their excitement, neither Paige nor Dipper noticed the figure standing in the shadows of the magic doorway, having heard their every word with a sickening grin that was slightly mad. **Oh, Bill is going to love this.** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, as always, I really hope you enjoyed the chapter! I hope you have forgiven me for my absence. 
> 
> I promise I will not permanently abandon the story because I can't just leave this story to die. It has been in my head for a while now, I got the first ideas for it way back before the last set of episodes came out over the last summer. Anyway, I just wanted to reassure you guys I won't leave until I finish this. 
> 
> PLEASE feel free to annoy me in the comments (not too much though) to update if I start to delay. 
> 
> Anyway, love you guys!
> 
> Novusavis <3


	11. Some Things Don't Wash Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mabel learns something new, old topics are brought up, and we get a flashback. And a new POV.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am the worst. I am seriously sorry about the delay, as usual, but at least I'm posting this sooner than I thought I would. I thought this chapter wouldn't be done until around Tuesday, but I just powered through a bunch today so tada.
> 
> WARNING: this chapter has the feels. or at least it did for me. so have some tissues at ready

**Mabel**

_“I’m sure you’re all familiar and acquainted with Gideon Gleeful?”_

A shocked silence feels the room, but a high-pitched ringing echoes in Mabel’s head. Out of all possibilities that had been running through her head moments before, _Gideon Gleeful_ was definitely not among them. When they had fled Gravity Falls those years ago, most of the citizens were either trying to get away as well or had been struck down by one of Bill’s monstrosities. Even though Mabel hadn’t seen the outcome for Gideon, she had always assumed… 

Wendy scoffs, crossing her arms over her chest, “Oh _please_ , I seriously doubt Gideon would be alive. And even if he were, Bill wouldn’t be stupid enough to give him power over anything. He’s too selfish and only thinks for himself.” 

“That’s why Master Cipher has entrusted the western mountain passage to Gleeful- he’s very similar to a demon in his personality and train of thought.” Malum sighs, gaze casted downwards at his feet. His eyes are soft, thoughtful, “That and he has proved himself to Master Cipher before. Gleeful has earned his trust.” 

The Pines pause, allowing the information to sink in, then Stan sighs heavily, “So Gleeful essentially has the same trusting relationship with the dorito that you have?” 

A shake of the assassin’s head, “No… Master Cipher completely trusts Gideon and leaves him alone for the most part… I don’t have that honor…” 

The brunette can feel herself frown at his words. Gideon has much more of a shifty character than Malum, so Bill’s trust seems really wacked. “So is the trust between them good or bad for us?” 

“More likely bad. Because Master Cipher trusts Gideon he won’t be hovering over his shoulder to ensure everything goes as he wishes, so Gideon will have a little more freedom. That’s bad because if we manage to _really_ piss him off nobody will be there to keep him in check.” 

Stanford quirks an eyebrow, “Aren’t there demons with Gideon?”

“Yes, but they are under his command and order. They won’t care what he does, and if Master Cipher does get angry for anything that happens they will side with Gideon.” 

“Okay… well, we have you with us. From what we’ve seen you’re plenty powerful so you will be able to keep Gideon in check, correct?” The scientist continues, his gaze on Malum thoughtful and calculating.

The assassin shakes his head quickly, “No. I can’t do anything to help you once we are in his presence,” Everyone groans, glaring at Malum with annoyance. His eyes harden, jaw clenching angrily, “If I _were_ to do anything- and I mean _anything_ \- I would be possessed and forced to kill one of you. In an excruciating and horrifying way. So no, I apologize for my inability to do so, but I cannot and will not assist you once we are with Gleeful.” 

Mabel presses her lips together worriedly, but makes no comment. There’s something in the way he says it that makes her wonder- but Mabel decides not to push for answers right now. Possibly later, when they are alone and don’t feel the pressure from the family. “Alright, so that rules you out of the picture for the most part. No biggie, the rest of us can deal with him.” 

It takes a couple seconds, but eventually the family nods in agreement. Mabel resists rolling her eyes. Stanford clears his throat, glancing back at Malum, “Well, we should go into further detail when we do head that way- which should be soon- but now we need to talk about the next stop for a navitas crystal.” 

And the conversation shifts, flowing much more easily under the new topic. Malum talks about the best way to reach Hamilton County, which areas to avoid due to demon territories, and places they would be able to stop to rest and restock supplies. Now that Ford isn’t at the assassin’s throat, the two get along fairly well, though Mabel’s uncle still sends him curious and suspicious glances every so often. 

It’s nearly two hours later when Mabel drags Malum away so they can do something else. Stan calls after them, “Oh, sweetie, could you search for any CDs that aren’t damaged and fit our taste? It would be nice to get freshen up the available selection for the RV.” She sends him a thumbsup, then continues out the door, Malum at her side. 

The town is peaceful in the early afternoon, the sun wrapping everything in its reach in a warm and comforting embrace. Mabel smiles. She had been able to snatch a warm shower- with no time limit- because of Malum’s magic, which had brought the entire hotel building to life. They had also been able to cook a decent meal and wash their clothes (Mabel has decided to ask Malum about it at some point because it was so awesome to have that kind of thing while on the road) so she was as chipper as they come. 

She looks at the assassin- whose warm mahogany irises dart from one thing to the next, taking in the scenery- before speaking up, “I have a question for you- about your magic anyway. How do you influence people using their emotions? You mentioned that… but I can’t figure out how you would do that. I mean, I can make a person feel joy and hope and happiness in their darkest days, but I can’t use my magic against people.” 

Malum pauses before answering, and Mabel can almost hear the gears in his head turning and thinking, “It really isn’t that different than what you’re doing. We just focus on different feelings and emotions. I believe it’s easier if you apply feelings you have felt very strongly before. The more familiar you are with an emotion or feeling, the easier it is to take hold of and manipulate in another person,” he glances at her, a slight scowl tugging at his brows, “Besides, I don’t always use negative emotions against people.” 

“How would you use a _negative thing_ for something _positive_?” 

“I can manipulate negative emotions, I can make a person feel deadly amounts of fear or hatred- but at the same time I can completely eliminate those feelings in a person, which generally boosts more positive emotions.” He pauses thoughtfully, “So I guess, in a way, our magic is much more similar than we first thought.”

Mabel’s eyes widen as she freezes, “How on earth do you do that?” 

The assassin has paused a couple paces in front of her, hands stuffed in his pants’ pockets. The warm mahogany orbs are studying her face, a small frown pulling the corners of his lips down. Malum looks at the building they are standing in front of, a supermarket, and motions for her to follow him in.

He pushes aside one of the broken sliding glass doors, slipping in, and Mabel follows suit. The air is musty and thick, the only light coming from various windows on the front of the building. Malum sits on the floor- there’s an old poster underneath him, all bright colors and promises of discounts- and Mabel does the same, in front of him rather than at his side. 

Slowly, Malum holds out his hands, palms up, between them. Cautiously, Mabel rests her fingers on his. She watches his eyes slip close, brows furrowing slightly again. Then, there’s the strangest sensation deep in her chest. It feels as though there are tight wound strings in there, like a violin or cello has, and a finger is brushing along each one. Lightly, not in a harmful way, but it still makes Mabel’s heart stutter. The touch has paused, and there’s a _tug_ and then- it’s that feeling you have when there seems to be nothing in the world that could possibly ever stop you. You’re invincible, and happy, without any doubts or worries haunting your every choice- and it feels _free_. Mabel hasn’t felt this happy since… since Dipper was taken. 

Malum’s hands fold back to his lap, and Mabel hurriedly wipes the tears from her eyes as she sniffles. “What… what was that?” 

A small smile graces the assassin’s face, and Mabel’s surprised to see a look of fondness dance around in his eyes, “I drained all the negative emotions out of you- your fear, worry, sadness- so all the positive things were less diluted and much more concentrated.” 

“And what was that… weird thing happening in my chest?” 

“Weird thing?” 

“It kind of felt… I don’t know, like something was being tugged, like a string or something.” 

The assassin nods, “Oh, that. It was just me finding the emotions I needed to work with. You were probably sensitive to it since you can also manipulate emotions and such.” 

Mabel nods, “Okay, well that was very educational. And I think I get what you were saying before.” She rises to her feet, slightly shaky, “Let’s go look for some fresh CDs for Stan.” 

They search the aisles, or Malum does, Mabel goes through the motions but her mind is still focusing on what she just learned and experienced. She had never thought about her ability to manipulate emotions that way before- always _giving_ love, kindness, happiness… never completely draining it out of a person. 

She’s pulled out of her thoughts when Malum pokes her arm, “Hey, you okay? Also, what kind of music does Stanley like because I found some undamaged CDs over here.” 

“It’s nothing, just thinking about stuff. And Stan won’t care too much, as long as it isn’t for little kids or something.” 

The walk back to the hotel is done in a comfortable silence, seven different CDs securely held in Malum’s arms. Mabel’s still distracted, not too interested in conversation, but Malum doesn’t appear to mind. _Maybe he’s distracted too._

When they walk into the dining hall once more, the only person there to greet them is Stanley, who is leaning against the map table, eating a bag of potato chips. Mabel scowls, “Hey, the Ruffles are mine.” 

Stan smirks, waggling his eyebrows at her mockingly, “Not anymore. This was the last bag.” 

As she feigns a gasp of betrayal, Malum laughs, moving to rest the CDs on the table, spreading them out so Stan can look through the choices. “So where did everyone go?” Mabel asks, glancing around to confirm that there is no one else in the room. 

“Soos went off to sleep, Wendy’s sharpening her axe, and Ford is in the RV looking through his supplies.” Stanley rolls his eyes, “ _Again_.” 

Her uncle returns his gaze to the CDs, nose scrunching at a couple of them in disgust. Malum leans against the table, crossing his arms over his chest, “So when are we heading down to Hamilton County?” 

“Dunno,” Stan shrugs, “We’re ahead of schedule, according to Ford, so we don’t need to head out too soon. But probably with a day or so.” 

The assassin nods, eyes darting to the doors of what must be the kitchen, “Alright. Well, I’m going to get something to eat.” 

He has barely made it through the swinging doors when Stanford bursts into the room, anger written across his features. Mabel and Stanley straighten up, surprised, “Hey, Uncle Ford. What’s wrong?” 

“Is Malum here right now?” 

Stan and Mabel glance at each other, worry holding in their eyes, “He’s in the back cooking some food or something. Why?” 

Mabel’s uncle looks furious, normally calm and collected maple eyes stormy with anger, “One of the navitas crystals is missing.” He snaps, voice bitter, “The small one, and I’m pretty sure he’s the only one that would steal it.” 

“What? No… Malum would never…” the brunette can feel her heart clenching in her chest from worry and confusion and betrayal. “Ford, I know him, and he wouldn’t do that. What would be the point anyway?” 

“I don’t know, but I intend to find out,” the scientist growls, “Malum! Get out here right now, we need to talk!” 

The assassin appears through the doors a couple seconds later, a plate of french fries in hand, “Yes? You need me for something?” 

“Where the hell is the crystal?” Stanford pulls a gun-like machine from a pocket aiming it at the assassin. 

Malum blinks, then raises an eyebrow, “I thought they were in your possession? But if you’re worried I did something with them, feel free to check me. I have no reason to take them anyway, they’re going to end up with Master Cipher either way.” 

Mabel watches her uncle direct the scanner, she now realizes it’s a scanner of sorts, up and down Malum’s figure, brow furrowed. It makes a lot of high-pitched and frantic noises. Mabel frowns, “Is it supposed to make that noise?” 

“Only around high levels of magic substance, which is why Stanford is using it to search me,” Malum explains. He turns his attention to the scientist once more, whose expression is one of shock, surprise, and wonder. 

Mabel’s uncle swallows, eyes darting up to meet the gaze of the assassin, who has started to much on his fries, “How on earth…?” 

Stanley and Mabel move to the scientist’s side, and Mabel knows her expression must be ridiculous when she sees he scanner’s screen. It works a bit like a heat sensor, but it picks up the radiation magic gives off instead. And Malum is lighting up like a neon Christmas tree on drugs. Even the air around him has bright flashing colors that indicate strong magic, almost like Malum himself _radiates_ it. 

The assassin mumbles around a french fry, “I am going to assume from the looks on your faces, that my readings are pretty interesting to say the least.” 

Stanford adjusts his glasses, eyes wide and unbelieving, “I have never seen a reading for a human look like this… how is this even possible?” 

The three Pines are all focused on the anomaly standing a couple feet away- and still munching on fries, at a time like this. “I did mention Master Cipher enjoys conducting his own experiments. I’m not even entirely certain I’m completely human anymore.” He shrugs, as though this is just another part of life people face at some point or another in their lives, “Can I finish making my meal now?” 

They nod, and he slips away once more. Mabel looks at her uncles, who are in just as much shock as she is. Ford looks at his twin, “You need to call Paige in. We need to discuss what to do about the missing crystal and Malum as well.” 

**Dipper**

Running a hand through his hair, Dipper sighs heavily. He hadn’t outright lied to the Pines. Bill had done a ton of experimentation that probably was partially responsible for his high levels of magic. Dipper knows he was already incredibly powerful before downing the crystal water, but since then he can feel the steady rise of the amount of power within him. It’s exhilarating, and it hasn’t even been a full day since Dipper had originally absorbed the crystal and its power. 

Still, he felt bad about lying to them. Especially when this was all for them, for their safety and happiness. But Dipper knows he can’t just tell them his plan. So he’s stuck with lying to them and possibly earning their hate. Oh well. 

_Sounds like quite the dilemma_ , the voice agrees.

Dipper nods, “I need to protect them, and this is the only way I know how to.” 

The voice is quiet for a minute- Dipper can sense a type of thoughtfulness coming from it- and when it does speak up again, it sounds gentle and understanding, _Don’t worry about it, kid. It won’t be like last time. I swear._

**Paige**

The familiar tug of a summoning grabs the demoness’s attention- and it’s a strong one, so it must be the Pines. They do hold a contract, after all- and teleports her away. When she materializes, Paige takes a couple seconds to absorb her surroundings. They are out by the RV again, though now in a fading town full of crumbling buildings and cracked streets. 

Glowing violet irises flick down to the three figures standing slightly below her, and she grins, “How’s it going, folks? Miss me?” 

Stanford steps closer, worry aging his features, “We need to talk.” 

With a nod, Paige floats to the ground, and with a snap of her fingers, four comfy olive green chairs materialize. She relaxes back into one, interlacing her fingers together in front of her, “Well? What do you want to discuss?” 

They explain everything. The missing crystal. The powerful pawn of Bill’s. And her face doesn’t twitch throughout the entire story. Paige stays as collected as ever, and when they finally finish, she hesitates before responding, “What did you say the boy’s name is again?” 

The brunette girl, Mabel, pipes up, “Malum.” Paige blinks, _she’s fond of the boy. Huh._

Paige blinks. _Malum?_ An odd name. She doesn’t recognize it. Maybe Bill found a replacement for her. The bastard. “Can you describe him to me. Appearance and personality wise.” 

The girl nods enthusiastically, and Stanley appears to be fighting off a smile, amusement evident in his hazel irises, “He has dark reddish-brown hair, on the shorter side, and has it styled in the front. His eyes are a warm… mahogany, I would say. And he’s really nice. And kind of nerdy. Oh, and _really_ smart.” Her uncle hides a laugh with a cough, unconvincingly, and Mabel shoots a glare in his direction. 

The demoness reaches out a hand toward the girl, who flinches away, “Oh, sorry. But would you mind if I looked through your memories of him so I can get a better idea? It would be a big help.” Mabel shrugs, so Paige gently rests her hand on the side of the girl’s head. 

And it’s him. She hadn’t been expecting that. But Paige knew Dipper well enough, had memorized his eye color and the way he gets dimples when he laughs. Paige knows all his little quirks and ticks. And this was Dipper. It had been… well, a couple years isn’t forever, but it feels like _forever_ since she had seen him. _God,_ is all she can think, _what did he do to you?_. 

Paige frowns slightly, desperately resisting the tears that threaten to roll down her cheeks, a sharp pang in her chest causing her heart to stutter. _And he still thinks you’re dead. And he still thinks it was all his fault._

**Paige: Two years ago**

_Of course she’s excited- they finally have an actual chance of escaping from this hell. Sure, they had tried in the past, but those times hadn’t been well thought out. Only one of the previous times really had any success, and that was just because they had raided a warehouse of Girl Scout cookies and lugged them back for everyone before Bill noticed the pair had left._

_But Paige can just feel it, that this is the time that they will be able to get away. Maybe even make it back to Dipper’s family. Paige doubts her parents are still around, and the Pines seem nice enough from what Dipper has described for her._

_She and Dipper make trips down to the small dome room as often as possible, sometimes only once a week, to translate the runes. It’s always on the days when Bill has to deal with other stuff and won’t be around to notice their short absence. The pair stay down there for hours sometimes, scribbling down in small notebooks as they work out translations._

_It can be hard work. Some of the sentences switch between three or four languages without warning and other times they confuse one language for another. Despite the complexity of the project, Dipper and Paige slowly make their way through the needed verses._

_It’s nearly four week since Paige had introduced Dipper to the plan when they finish translating and the spell is finally complete. She sighs, a happy grin lighting up her face, “ **Finally**. I was beginning to worry that we were never going to finish.” _

_Dipper nods, a content smile on his face as well, “Now we just need to decide when and gather all the necessary supplies for an escape.”_

_She nods, mind traveling to something Bill had mentioned early this morning, “Didn’t Bill say he would be leaving tonight to sort a conflict out on the west coast? And that he wouldn’t be back for a couple days, a week tops?”_

_A small frown tugs at her friend’s lips, “Shouldn’t we wait a little longer? Get a proper plan and everything. And,” Dipper glances at her, worried, “Doesn’t that just seem a little **too** perfect to you?” _

_Paige can’t help it, she rolls her eyes, “Oh please, Dipper. How on earth would he know about this? Hell, how would he just know that we would finish it today?” Dipper doesn’t offer an answer, but he doesn’t look convinced either, “Look, it’s probably a coincidence-”_

_“What’s the one thing we learned here? Coincidences rarely happen. **Especially** when it comes to **Bill**.” _

_She reaches out, placing a hand on his, “Hey, look, I know we’ve had some failures in the past, but I know everything is going to work out this time.” Paige offers a smile, “It’ll be okay. Promise.”_

_Dipper nods, hesitant, but says in a quiet and pained voice, “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”_

_The glowing saucer of a sun has disappeared beneath horizon, rich velvet blues and indigos painting the sky into night, bright specks of stars twinkling and dancing. They stand at attention with Gideon, watching Bill in silence as he explains everything once more while he gathers all the needed items for his trip, “Again, I won’t be too long. If the demons over there give me too many problems I’ll just kill them all and give the territory to Sirene or something.” The dream demon turns, golden gaze sweeping over them, “Also, if I hear about **any** funny business, **there will be severe consequences**. I expect all of you to study your magic while I’m gone, and listen to Sirene, I’m giving him charge while I’m out. Now I have to go.” And with that, the demon walks away, down the long corridor, canary yellow trenchcoat whipping slightly. _

_The three students exchange glances, and Paige pretends to yawn, stretching a bit, “Well, I am absolutely drained. And hungry, so I’m going to head back to the apartment and munch on something then pass out,” She glances at Dipper, “Joining me?”_

_Dipper shrugs, “Sure, why not.” He turns, and they begin walking back to the apartments. Gideon’s voice calls out after them, “I suggest you both take Master Cipher’s advice. Wouldn’t want anything to happen to your pretty faces.”_

_Paige turns, a smirk playing on her lips, “Nice to know you’re worried, Gleeful. I know I’m fantabulous. Anyway- unless eating and sleeping is illegal- I don’t think we’ll be having issues.” Then they continue on their way._

_Back in their apartment, Dipper grabs a couple backpacks- both of which he had enchanted to be bottomless- one full of clothes and blankets and the other water and food. He has changed into all black- a soft and slightly form fitting, skinny jeans, and combat boots- but Paige refuses to wear funeral clothes._

_“Paige,” Dipper sighs, exasperated, “You’ll be easy to spot in a **rainbow sweater**. Can’t you wear something a little less flashy until we have some distance between us and this place?” _

_“Oh hush up, my skirt **and** socks **and** shoes are black. Just learn to live with it. At least I don’t look like some creep that’s gonna murder you in your sleep.” _

_He sighs, but doesn’t argue, and Paige can see unvoiced laughter dancing in his warm eyes. Dipper turns back to the backpacks, rooting through them, “I don’t look like a creep,” He turns back to her, biting his lip to refrain from laughing. Dipper holds a black mask up to his face. It would cover almost his entire face, excluding the area around the mouth, “I would need the mask to complete the look.”_

_Paige laughs, snatching the mask away. It has a couple triangles on it- one large one around the right eye and three smaller ones underneath the left eye- but apart from that it’s just black. “Ugh whatever, just finish checking the bags.”_

_“We have everything,” Dipper says a couple minutes later, pulling one backpack on and tossing the other to Paige, “When are we leaving?”_

_“How ‘bout right now?”_

_The pair sneak out of the apartment, checking that Gideon is in his own and not paying attention to their movements. Then they slink along the corridors, heading back down to the room._

_Paige mutters the enchantment, and the doorway slides open. She slips in, Dipper following close behind. She immediately crosses to the hidden door that they will use to leave, but Dipper has frozen, “Something isn’t right.”_

_“Don’t get nervous now, Dipdop. We don’t have time to deal with that, everything is fine.”_

_She looks back at him, and he looks terrified, “No, Paige, I am not kidding around. Can’t you feel that? There is something very seriously wrong here. Let’s just go back to the apartment.”_

_Paige groans, “Dipper, I swear, get your butt down here and help me with the enchantment. The sooner the gone, the better. Stop being such a scaredy cat.”_

_Dipper opens his mouth to reply, but a booming voice interrupts him, “You know, sweetheart, you really should have listened to him. I might have let you go.”_

_They both whip around, wide eyes training on the two figures by the wall to their right. Bill’s face set in stone, but the anger radiates off him in thick waves that make them both fidget. Gideon stands next to him, smirking and eyes glimmering with glee._

_Paige rises to her feet, eyes wide. “I would love to thank Gideon here,” Bill waves a hand disinterestedly in his direction. “He’s the one who discovered your plan. Without his direction, I probably wouldn’t have been able to intercept this plan.”_

_The dream demon cocks his head to the side, studying them, “You know, I really think Pinetree would be fine if it weren’t for you. And that is just so disappointing. I really hate scratching out the life of my students, but sometimes you just can’t avoid these things.”_

_Very slowly, Paige moves to stand at Dipper’s side. Her eyes widen at the demon’s words, but he disappears in a plume of smoke. Gideon looks as confused as she feels, but Paige doesn’t care about that too much right now. She turns, tugging on Dipper’s sleeve, “Hey, let’s g- Dipper, are you okay?”_

_Dipper body is ridged and stiff, and tremors are traveling through his limbs. He turns to look at her, and Paige is surprised to see a wide grin stretched across his face. Paige’s eyes widen. Because Dipper doesn’t have fangs. Or golden eyes with slitted pupils. This isn’t Dipper._

_Paige stumbles backwards, “Y-you can’t just possess a person. You have to get their consent first.”_

_Dipp- no, Bill, cackles, watching her like a predator, “I have the right to do whatever I want with him. We have a contract that says so.” Paige’s horror must show on her face, because Bill laughs cruelly again, “Now, let’s have some fun.”_

_Bill advances, and Paige moves back until her back is against a wall. She holds a hand out, muttering a spell, but Bill brushes it off. And then proceeds to cut off her magic altogether. Okay, if she can’t use magic, she’ll use force. Paige runs at him, a wide punch aimed at his head, but Bill blocks again. Paige tries to kick, punch, anything, but it proves useless._

_The demon lands a kick squarely on her chest, and Paige flies back, slamming into the wall. All the air is knocked from her lungs, and Paige’s head is pounding and throbbing. Unsuccessfully, she tries to rise to her feet. And then Bill is there, towering over her, in her **best friend's** body. And Paige hates it. _

_He yanks Paige to her feet, pinning her to the wall, right hand keeping a painful grip on her throat, choking her. Bill leans in, and Paige can feel angry tears streak down her cheeks, and amused smirk pulling on his lips. Out of the corner of her eyes, Paige barely registers his left hand drawing back, then piercing into her stomach. She screams, more tears pouring from her usually bright eyes._

_The hand continues up, and she barely registers it wrapping around her frantic heart. Golden eyes gleam as he leans in and whispers into her ear, “ **You think you’re in pain? Imagine how he’s going to feel.** ” _

_Bill pulls back to look her in the eyes again, then squeezes. She’s fairly certain he’s set her heart on fire, as well as burst it in a clenched fist. But she’s still aware of what’s going on. It feels like a million daggers are slowly ripping her apart from the inside. And they’re all drenched in acid. And serrated._

_And it hurts so much. She can’t scream anymore, it doesn’t seem like she has control over her body anymore. But in her mind is another story. Paige can scream and cry in pain all she wants. Her vision is going hazy, but she is aware of the mahogany eyes watching her, the distant pleading for her to stay with him._

_Paige wishes she had the strength to console Dipper, who appears to have control over his body once more. He’s crying and apologizing and **it isn’t your fault, Dipper. Stop please stop I never wanted you to see this.** Paige hates Bill. She hates that he did this, not because she has high value of her life, but Paige knows Dipper will blame himself. And she doesn't want that. She doesn’t want him living in guilt._

_Everything is beginning to fade. Paige wants to cry. And scream. With her voice, not just in her mind. She hasn’t gotten to say everything she wanted to. Not to Dipper anyway. And Paige is going to die **here** , of all places. Not out in some forest or field. Not surrounded by tall he people she loves. She dies here, in this hell, **so close yet so far** from her goal- and Dipper will be left all by himself, with no one to console him. With no one to keep his sanity intact when Bill does something horrible again._

_Everything is fading to an inky black nothing, and **she isn’t ready to let go. Not just yet.**_

**Dipper**

_He has her in his arms. Her form is crumpled and limp, no pulse coursing through her veins. Dipper had closed her eyes with the hand that wasn’t covered in thick scarlet blood. **Her blood**. He’s sobbing, tears streaming from his eyes like he has some endless ocean of them. Dipper uses a sleeve to catch them, so they don’t disturb her face. _

_There’s so much blood. Paige’s sweater now a drenched scarlet mess, the different colors marred. He brings her body closer to his chest. **Why couldn’t I keep her safe?**_

_Distantly, Dipper can hear either Bill or Gideon rooting through their backpacks. There’s a hum of interest, and footsteps approach him. Dipper flinches away, bringing Paige even closer. “There’s no point in doing that, there isn’t anything to keep safe or protect anymore,” Bill laughs, crouching down next to him. Dipper can barely see through the thick pools of tears that collect in his eyes, but he still tries to glare at the demon. He earns himself a chuckle._

_Bill holds something up to his face, fastening it into place. The mask. Paige must have put it in one of the packs. “I think it suits you. Come on, Pinetree. Let’s go. You need to clean the blood off your hands. Well,” Bill smiles wickedly, eyes shining with delight at the boy’s pain and anguish, “You can never really wash it off, can you? It is murder, after all.”_

_Dipper sobs, “I- I didn’t kill her. **I would never** hurt her, I-” _

_The amusement drains from Bill’s expression. He leans in, whispering, “ **You might as well have.** ”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, I hope you enjoyed the chapter! (and the feels. hope you liked those too)  
> It actually wasn't supposed to be this long, but I wrote the flashback part and decided to merge it with chapter 11 because I thought it would work nicely. And then it made the chapter longer, which I thought you guys deserved since I've been absent.
> 
> Anyway, hope you enjoyed, please leave a comment, they are always much appreciated.


	12. Comparing What Once Was to What Now Is

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Paige's story gets told and she misses her friend. But is also quite shocked over the changes that are painstakingly obvious in him. She also checks up on an old foe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all I do apologize for the unexpected hiatus. Didn't intend for that to happen, especially for the length of it.
> 
> Please remember I do indeed have a life and get busy with schoolwork. Sadly, writing this story has to be bumped back when school takes over my life. Currently I am about halfway through an entire month of testing (it's thoroughly exhausting). And I'm also 12 days away from the opening night of the spring musical I'm in. So yeah. Very busy with that crap.
> 
> I would have had this up yesterday, but my editor was busy. I decided to edit the chapter myself today so the update wouldn't be delayed further. 
> 
> Now, I won't delay you any further, go read.

**Paige 2 Years Ago**

_Death didn’t really feel like anything. A whole lot of nothing. Kind of disappointing, at least in Paige’s mind. There had always been this whole big deal when a person died. Always that mystery element. Did it hurt? Were they actually in a ‘better place’? Or were they still wandering the earth, except they now were nothing more than an echo of what once was, not seen or heard by anyone or anything? Were they aware of the number of people who mourned for them, who cried on the cold stone graves that stood guard over the body?_

_Paige had always told her parents she wanted to be cremated rather than buried. The whole idea had creeped her out- the blood being drained from her body, leaving her pale and cold to the touch, and then being stuffed into the ground in a cramped box. Paige understood why it was important for the brave souls in the army, of course. It enabled their families one last chance to say goodbye. But she would much rather be turned into ash and emptied off a cliff in a strong breeze or something. Something that would make her free. Not that Paige had that choice anymore._

_But death was such a disappointment, cremation or not. It was like her mind was trapped in an endless void, thoughts echoing pointlessly and bouncing back to mock her. She had expected the company of other souls at least, or to be able to watch over those she had cared about in the living realm._

_However, here she wasn’t aware of anything in the physical realm. Not the strong grip Dipper used to hold her tight against him. Not the pleading of his broken voice that begged for her to not leave him all alone. Not the sudden chill and lack of warmth as Bill dragged Dipper away, still crying and pleading. Not the sensation of her magic activating an ancient set of circle runes in one last attempt to save her. None of it._

_It was rather frustrating that she couldn’t even tell how much time had passed. On the one hand Paige understood she had died just seconds, possibly minutes, before- but then again maybe the void had lulled her mind into a state of numbness that jumbled all logical estimations and she had actually been her for years, decades, centuries even._

_Her thoughts drift to the actual grand event of her death. Hopefully Dipper wouldn’t trap himself in a box of emotions of guilt and self-hatred over it. But Paige knows he will. That’s what Dipper does. Maybe it would have been different if his sister, Mabel, had been at his side these past five years. While Paige liked to think she had been enough- that she had filled the vacancy his twin left in his soul, Paige knew it wasn’t true. She might have been close, but she would never be able to replace Dipper’s dear sister._

_And Paige knows she has no right to resent this girl- but it wasn’t fair. Who had been at Dipper’s side these past five years? Who shared his scars and traumas, emotionally, mentally, and physically? Who was there to wipe away his tears and stitch up the wounds Bill inflicted? Certainly not Mabel._

_All her thoughts came to an abrupt halt at a new sensation. Well, a sensation in general, since this void seemed to only allow emotions and thoughts. It was odd, felt almost like a tremor. The kind of tremor that results from the harsh shivering on a chilly day when you forget to wear a thick, fluffy coat or long pants that tuck snuggly into your boots. And it grew stronger with each passing moment._

_The darkness- or the nothingness, the endless black of void- was shifting in shades to something lighter. Brighter. A violent, almost sickening lime green. If Paige could wince she would have, but seeing as she had no body currently, she just observes the change curiously The lime is almost blinding now, incredibly overwhelming._

_Paige’s eyes fly open, arching off the floor as she desperately gasps for air. She stays on the floor- her back pressing against the now oddly hot floor- regaining the order of her thoughts, or she tries to. But Paige has barely been conscious for a mere couple of seconds before the pain begins._

_Despite all the torture sessions and fights with demons and monsters alike, nothing could compare or prepare Paige for this. It was like being torn apart from the inside with an overwhelmingly hot serrated blade. And then having acid poured over the flesh that had just been carved open._

_She screamed- a high pitched sound of absolute pain and fear that would have easily broken glass if there were any around- tears streaking down her dirt-covered cheeks as the circle of runes burst into flames of a blazing lime green. A faint hum vibrated throughout the room, barely noticeable over Paige’s cries. The runes gradually began to glow, hovering in the air above their respective spots in the circle before spinning around, picking up speed with each full rotation._

_Just when Paige thought she would break from the pain- pass out or possibly die, wait, was she alive?- there was a bright flash of light, bright enough to be blinding, and it all stopped. The pain, the weird-ass flames, the dancing runes, the screaming. It all stopped, leaving an exhausted Paige to once again violently gasp for air through her sobs on the floor._

_If she had been more coherent, Paige might have noticed the way her hair was no longer a dark scarlet, as the dark waves were now rolling locks of crisp snow white. Her skin was also paler than before, less warm. No longer a soft shade of cinnamon. But, possibly most importantly or most interestingly, the wound that had pierced her chest and left stains of crimson was now nonexistent, not even a scar or speck of blood to show proof it had ever existed._

_Paige also might have noticed the writing on the wall across from her, glowing faintly in the shadowy room._

**The blood of an innocent child**

**Spilled under the traitor’s name**

**Her magic drenches the tile**

**The Demon King must take the blame**

**Paige**

It probably isn’t wise to follow them, but she wants to see him for herself. Wants to see with her own eyes what he has become. Paige never got the chance when she first turned. She had fled immediately after realizing the extent of her new powers- though not quite realizing the cause. And after that, Paige was unable to see him. Bill keeps powerful wards and spells as barriers against unwelcomed monsters and demons. Especially around Dipper and his other assassin ‘pets’. 

The Pines aren’t difficult to track, especially since she holds a contract with Stanley. His soul creates a small beacon of magic for her to follow as she flies through the air. His magic leaves a warm trail, like bread that’s just come out of the oven. And it smells faintly of cinnamon. Not that really cheap cinnamon that you smell around Christmas- hell no, Paige always gets the sniffles and sneeze attacks around that crap- no, this is more like cinnamon rolls fresh out of the oven. It’s very pleasant. 

A faint purr of the old engine of the RV can be heard distantly as she nears it. The crew only has a couple more hours until they reach Hamilton County, which had been nearly twenty hours away from International Falls. The sky is in its twilight stages, merging pleasant periwinkles, lavenders, and royal blues as night falls. Below, Paige spots the warm headlights of the pickup, and a short ways ahead, the rumbling RV. 

Floating down, Paige mutters a spell, making her unnoticeable and practically invisible. She sinks through the roof of the RV, hovering above the old and worn carpet. There. In the corner. Dipper is relaxing against a pile of brightly colored squishy pillows, Mabel an arms-length away and munching happily on a bag of chips. 

A small smile graces her lips, her eyes filling with a soft sadness. Dipper had changed a lot in the time since she had last seen him. Sure, there were the physical differences, like the haircut, clothes, and most importantly the mask on his face that surrounded haunted eyes- but there was something different internally too.

Before Paige had become a… _an entity_ she obviously hadn’t been able to see other people’s souls. But Paige had been very talented at reading people, especially since becoming an apprentice of Bill’s. So she kept tabs on how Dipper had been holding up under all the stress and abuse back then. Comparing the past to present… 

Dipper had obviously been broken after their stunt. And his soul… it looks like it had been smashed into hundreds of shards and then hazardously stitched back together. There’s a certain thumbprint to the magic holding the jumbled pieces together. Bill. No wonder Dipper acts as the dog for the demon. Bill is the literal thread keeping him from slipping into an insanity too deep to be saved from. 

And her death must have really taken a toll on the assassin as well. It’s odd, the character that’s sitting at Mabel’s side isn’t really Dipper. Well, it is to an extent. But it’s a facade. One that keeps his true self from having to face the world. A wall built to protect him from Bill’s sick games. The emotionless soldier. 

The extent to which her friend was damaged has Paige distracted for several minutes, a pale hand clamped over her lips, gentle tears escaping from the corners of her eyes. Paige quickly wipes her eyes on her wrists, small sniffs escaping- though going unnoticed by the Pines. And then Dipper sneezes. 

**Dipper**

Dipper really didn’t think a _sneeze_ would almost blow the cover to his plans. But it did. It had come out of nowhere. Normally, sneezing is a harmless action. But Dipper hadn’t been able to use his magic _all day_ , and the crystal’s power is like an overflowing well, overwhelming all of his senses more and more as every hour passes. And, of course, it hadn’t been as urgent of a matter when they had taken a bathroom break, so Dipper didn’t bother releasing any magic. 

His magic felt like it was going to burst through his fingertips any minute, and Dipper honestly wouldn’t be surprised if his hair looked like he just rubbed a balloon all over it, alive with static. Luckily, Mabel didn’t seem to notice the way his smiles were getting tighter and more tense- or the way Dipper had accidentally torn into a lemon yellow pillow just a couple of minutes ago. Whoops. 

So of course, what happens? Dipper _sneezes_ and a fucking pulse of magic strong enough to power a five-star hotel is released. Causing Mabel to shriek, Stanford to break a pen (which results in ink spilling all over his hands in a big mess), and Stan yanking the steering wheel to the side. Which has them on a very violent and bumpy off-road detour. Nearly crashing into at least five trees, when they finally pull into a sharp break, sending Dipper and Mabel crashing into the television. 

Of course, the voice isn’t being very empathetic, snickering in an almost sing-song tone, _You are beauty. You are grace. Now have a TV in your face._

Dipper groans, sitting up and rubbing his head, wincing, “Haha, what a comedian.” 

He doesn’t really have the chance to pay much attention to the voice’s response since he looks up and both Stanley and Stanford are towering over him and Mabel. Stanley looks extremely confused and concerned for the young adults’ health and safety. Stanford, on the other hand, looks absolutely murderous. 

“What the _fuck_ was that?!” he practically roars, resulting in more wincing on Dipper’s part, “Are you _trying_ to kill us?” 

“Not particularly,” Dipper mutters, slightly glaring at the scientist.

“Then would you like to explain why you thought it was a grand idea to release a wave of magic _that_ strong? Stanley nearly crashed into _at least_ one tree!”

Stanley practically squawks at that, an annoyed look pulling at his features, “Excuse you, I am an extremely careful driver! I have never crashed into anything… _ever_.” 

Mabel snickers and Stanley glares playfully at her. The scientist rolls his eyes at his twin’s words, “Sure Lee, the RV just magically dents itself every time you drive it.” 

“It could, you never know.” 

“No it- you know what, just forget it. Back to the point,” Stanford groans, huffing in frustration, “What the hell were you doing, Malum?” 

“I sneezed.” Dipper replies. 

All three Pines stare at the assassin for a minute, eyes doubtful and unbelieving- and on Mabel’s part, amused, “You… you _sneezed_?” 

“Yup,” Dipper bites the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing at their expressions, “You know, most people respond with a ‘bless you’.” 

Snorting, Mabel pokes Dipper’s shoulder, “ _Hashtag blessed_ , bro.” 

Stanford leans forward a bit, eyes searching Dipper’s face, “But… how on earth-”. The older man doesn’t finish his thought as Stanley moves to whisper something in his brother’s ear, tone too hushed to make out. But Stanford’s eyes darken in understanding nonetheless. “Well, nevermind. Continue with your movie. Just… give us a little more warning next time.” Then Stanford turns and heads back to the front, dragging Stanley along and whispering to him urgently. 

_Probably remembered your readings on the device-thingy from the other day at the hotel_ , the voice murmurs thoughtfully, _You’ll definitely need to be more careful in the future to avoid suspicion… Also, have you noticed the pulse’s shock was absorbed by **four** beings. _

Dipper frowns as Mabel resumes their movie, “I wouldn’t have absorbed any of the pulse since I’m the source. It travelled out in a circle, there’s no logical way I absorbed it.” 

_I didn’t say you absorbed it. I said four beings absorbed it._

“But there are only three other people in the car…” 

_There are three beings other than you that are **physically** here._

His heart stutters at that. “...You don’t think it’s Bill… do you?” 

The voice snorts, _Bill? No. You would have felt that, recognized his presence the instant he was within twenty miles of you at least. No_ , there’s a thoughtful pause, _It looks like we’ve attracted the attention of someone… **something** else._

**Paige**

The pulse feels like a punch to the gut from an iron weight. All breath abandons her, leaving her floating in shock, gasping for air. And she’s not the only one. The Pines all react in different ways to the sensation, the violent crackle of energy radiating out in seconds. Paige’s eyes widen, watching Dipper. The pulse unmistakably originates from him. And he knows, that’s easy to see, especially in the way he responds to Stanford’s interrogation. 

But Stanley distracts his twin before any information is forced into the open. And Paige wants to know why. She follows the older twins to the front, listening carefully to their hushed voices as though it were her lifeline. 

“I just don’t understand. We had been traveling with the boy for days and this never happened.” Stanford sounds confused, which is a rather shocking change, “Don’t you think we would have _felt_ that kind of magic? So raw and pure and _powerful_?” The scientist pulls a colorful set of papers from a file near his chair, one he had been in before the incident. 

Also leaning in to observe the papers, Stanley murmurs, “You know, if I didn’t know otherwise, I would say Malum isn’t even human. The only beings I’ve ever known to contain _that_ amount of power is, well, demons.” 

Paige’s brow furrows in confusion. She moves to get a better view of the papers the two men seem so intrigued with. It takes her about ten seconds to understand what she’s looking at. And when Paige does realize, she’s shocked. 

There are three different pages that show scans of a person- Dipper- in what looks like infrared heat sensors. Closer inspection reveals these don’t measure heat- they measure magic. More specifically, the concentration of magic. And Dipper might as well be a supernova with the way his body and the air around him lit up in bright oranges, yellows, and reds. 

“But he wasn’t this powerful before… there wasn’t even a trace of _this_ much power in Dipper….” Paige turns, studying the assassin. When they had explained the situation to her a couple days ago, Paige had just assumed Dipper was powerful in comparison to them. Not in comparison to a high class demon. Now that she’s aware of it, it’s hard to ignore the overwhelming amounts of magic radiating from him. Paige is honestly surprised Mabel hasn’t passed out yet. 

_Must be something Bill did. But if that’s the case, if Dipper is this strong, how strong is Gideon?_ Paige wonders. She swallows thickly. As much as she hates admitting it, Dipper himself is a threat to her and her plans with the kind of power he possesses. Especially since Bill appears to have the young man held under his thumb very securely. 

Gideon Gleeful would be a whole other problem. A big one, too. Paige doesn’t doubt that Gideon will have become powerful during the two years, but seeing such a big difference in Dipper can only lead to her believe that Gideon has power to rival that. Maybe not as powerful, but still very much a threat. And that doesn’t even include the fact that Gideon may as well be a monster himself. Paige shivers, remembering how he was the only student that enjoyed watching the others get eliminated in gruesome and horrifying ways. 

Maybe she should sneak into Gideon’s base, evaluate the potential threat. She thinks it over a minute, then decides it would be best to have an idea. Paige closes her eyes, breathing in deeply before teleporting away. 

The Rocky Mountains still stand as tall and majestic as ever, towering over the forests and valleys on either side of them. Stark white snowcaps rest soundly on the peaks, the sky still a bright and sunny blue behind the jagged peaks with a couple fluffy cotton-like clouds partially blocking the sun. It’s quite the relaxing scene. 

Paige turns, eyes scanning the slopes of the mountains. Gideon’s base should be around here somewhere, though it looks like he didn’t take after Bill and build one that was obvious and visible for miles on end. Pity. Would have made her job a lot easier. She moves around searching for any signs of human or demon activity, especially near the old road areas. Gideon is the keeper of the only pass through the mountains. There’s no way to get over or around these mountains otherwise, Bill ensured it. Helps keep unwanted company in regulation. 

It’s been a good fifteen minutes by the time Paige finally spots it. A large building, designed to look like a fortress of sorts, with watch towers and multiple walls for defense. There’s no visible physical door to the entryway- which looks like a massive garage that could fit around twenty cars side by side- but there must be some of magical barrier of sorts. That way people can’t sneak through the base to cross, though that would be a mighty feat since Gideon has a small army of demons and monsters under his command. 

Paige sneaks in later, after nearly two hours of waiting patiently just outside the entrance. Finally, a cargo truck carrying magic substances blundered up, and Paige took the liberty of slipping in alongside. The cargo provided enough magic radiation to act as a shield to hide her and hopefully Paige will go unnoticed long enough to get a good idea of everything. 

Inside, Paige watches with wide eyes, taking in the sights around her. It seems Gideon must be in charge of manufacturing something for Bill- something powerful. The number of demons around here is alarming as well. Normally demons wouldn’t take orders from a human, and while Paige could have understood fifty or so, she certainly wasn’t expecting a couple hundred to be hurrying about (even if they are on the weaker side).

She moves silently from corridor to corridor, chamber to chamber, searching for anything hazardous and a certain someone when she stumbles upon it. A small breeze, a swirl of cool air whispering so lightly along her skin it’s barely noticeable. But it’s still enough to capture Paige’s attention. Darting down a hallway, Paige squints slightly as only a couple torches illuminate the path, allowing long stretches of threatening shadows to envelope the majority of the walkway. The hallway opens to a large, chilly chamber, a narrow staircase lining the wall from the hallway to the cold chamber floors.

Paige rubs her arms, shivering slightly, and moves to the long work tables awkwardly placed about the room. There’s too much clutter- papers, pens, books, and different trinkets of sorts strewn everywhere- and it all lacks a sense of organization. Fingers flitting from one thing to another while absorbing all the available information, Paige notices some blueprints. She picks one up, eyes narrowing as she analyzes it. 

It must be a portal of sorts- the design and structure resembles that of the portal Stanford had built under Bill’s supervision all those years ago. But it’s much larger and is about five times the size of the old one. Paige snatches the other blueprints, studying the thing. _This must be why Bill wants the navitas crystals_ , Paige thinks. Something of this magnitude would need a strong power source that would remain constantly stable. 

But why make it so massive? The original design was already quite powerful, and could branch into a multitude of dimensions. But not all dimensions. The most powerful dimensions have strong defensive barriers to protect themselves from invasions and unwelcomed visits. But with a portal that was powered by _five navitas crystals_...

Paige freezes at the sound of heavy footsteps approaching. She quickly sets everything back in place, backing off to the safety of the shadows. The figure exits the hallway, walking down the stairs to the main floor in a leisurely way, confidence and status obvious in their strut. Paige wants to burn his fucking atrocious shiny teal suit- and his hair. Hair that’s too blond, almost white in color, actually, that’s too heavily greased back on his head. And that grin… Paige would give anything to wipe that over-confident and smug grin off his stupid face. Choke him with his ridiculous bow tie. 

_Gods, Paige had forgotten how much she hates Gideon Gleeful._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. I'm sorry there has been a series of more mellow chapters, not a lot of fight scenes or anything. But that's coming later.  
> Hope you liked that major tease at the end. If you can't tell, I really don't like the Gideon in my story.
> 
> Love you guys, thank you for staying with me through the absence! <3


	13. I'm Missing You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pancakes are a great bonding experience. Or not, in Dipper and Wendy's case. Mabel and Dipper get to have some fun for a while though, and the uncles are slightly overprotective while also being complete children.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IMPORTANT NEWS UPDATE  
> Okay, so I will be on vacation from the 19-29 (of June) so there will be no updates in that time period (mainly because there is no/extremely crappy and not at all functional internet there). I will be back the 30th and will try and get it to you then, HOWEVER if I don't I will then try and update the 3rd of July (I will be at Anime Expo On July 1,2, and 4). Sorry about the hiatus, but I will get that chapter up as soon as possible once I am back. Until then~ <3
> 
> Dang it's almost been a whole month. It was an insane month for me, so thank you to everyone for holding out for so long. You guys made some really sweet comments, so thank you for your support!
> 
> In case you wanted to know, the musical went really well (as did the testing, which is now thankfully over, though I have finals this Wednesday/Thursday) and it was really amazing. Thank you to all of you who wished me well! <3
> 
> I had a little trouble writing this chapter, but I like how it turned out and I hope you guys enjoy.
> 
> I apologize for any spelling errors, I wrote this at 10pm and also edited it at that time and I am currently exhausted so ya. Probably will edit and clean up tomorrow.

**Dipper**

It’s a nice change- at least in Dipper’s mind- to be able to look around and not see an endless stretch of trees. Hamilton County, Kansas was once farmland, the rolling plains of weeds and grass in varying lengths, the tallest being up to about the knees, as far as the eye can see. The air has a different smell out here too- an earthier and much richer smell. Though the sun is much hotter and more overbearing, leaving Dipper to regret his fashion choices. 

Mabel’s excited, as per usual. Dipper has already had to pinky promise that they would explore and sightsee once Stanford gives them the okay. The group had reached their destination last night, but as they were all quite exhausted they had opted for sleep first. After dragging personal belongings and gear into a small, yet sturdy, one-story motel, everyone had slipped off to different rooms and abruptly passed out on lumpy and extremely dusty mattresses.

Dipper turns, surveying the distant small-town through squinted eyes. Damn this sun. Makes it nearly impossible to see anything from too far away, creating those weird squiggly ant-lines in the distance. Mirages. Incredibly frustrating and annoying. But Dipper doesn’t really need to visually search the area- he can feel the crystal. 

It’s probably because he consumed a crystal himself, but the magic radiating from the gem feels like a strong magnetic pull on Dipper’s chest. It has a steady thrum of a strong and faithful heartbeat. Sharp and persistent, though not quite painful. Dipper knows better than to go looking for the gem alone. Would raise too much suspicion over nothing- and after the wreck of a sneeze, Dipper really didn’t want to test the limits of the Pines’ patience. 

The presence from the day before also has Dipper on edge. It had left for several hours, doing who knows what, but eventually it resumed its skulking around the RV. The situation is incredibly nerve wracking for Dipper; the being still has made no attempts to inflict damage to anyone, but there’s still the possibility. The hairs on the back of Dipper’s neck persistently tingle, which is rather annoying to be completely honest, so he’s fairly certain he in particular is being… _observed_. 

The scent of turkey sausage wafting around on the slight breeze is enough to break Dipper’s line of concentration. Thank goodness stops mean real food. Seventeen hours isn’t too long, but Dipper’s tongue feels slightly abused from the amount of salty chips he ate yesterday. The sour gummies probably didn’t help, but Mabel had insisted. 

The assassin makes his way inside, the door softly swinging shut behind him with a small _click_. The dining area here is much smaller compared to their last choice of rest, only allowing them a cozy little room with a single circular dining table that could seat two or possibly three people. 

Ford, Stan, Mabel, and Soos are bent over a map, reviewing different colored lines- routes, Dipper guesses- that all eventually lead to Gravity Falls, Oregon. They don’t notice his entrance, so Dipper chooses to slink away to the kitchen. 

Dipper’s surprised to see Wendy at the stove, the sausage and another pan that contains mashed potatoes both sizzling under her careful eye. She looks up at him when he enters, fiery hair swaying slightly in its ponytail, but upon seeing who entered, Wendy returns to looking at the food. 

And silence. Dipper has learned to hate and adore silence. It’s one of the more maddening torture methods Bill uses, and one of Dipper’s personal least favorites, but when it is something chosen out of free will it can bring peace and relaxation. This isn’t quite either option. Dipper glances around, shuffling his feet slightly. 

“Is there anything I can help with?” He says. 

Wendy blinks at him, surprise and confusion flooding her gaze, but her face stays stony and cold for the most part, “Excuse me?” 

“Is there anything I can do to assist you with breakfast? Anything else that needs to be done? I’m sure you’re tired, so I wouldn’t mind helping.” 

The ginger turns back to the stove again, lips pressed into a thin and straight line. More silence. Dipper is tempted to go back to the others, anything to escape this awkwardness, when Wendy says, “I guess you can make the batter for the pancakes.” 

He freezes for a minute, then nods, quietly walking over to the corner where a large cooler has been set aside. Stanford or someone must have placed a spell on it, because Dipper is fairly certain most coolers don’t naturally stay at the temperature of a normal fridge. He reaches in, a gloved hand plucking the needed ingredients from the icy depths. 

Setting everything down on the counter a couple feet away from Wendy, Dipper then moves and collects the needed bowls and utensils. A couple of minutes have passed, Dipper having spent them setting everything up, when Wendy speaks up again, “Why are you so nice to Mabel?” 

His mahogany gaze snaps back to Wendy, surprised, “I’m sorry?” 

“Mabel. Why are you so nice and friendly with her?” She’s scowling now. 

Dipper’s hands rest on the large mixing bowl he had pulled from a cupboard, fingers running along the edges. He takes a moment before responding, “I don’t have any reason not to be. And I guess I just miss being able to talk with someone. All the lighthearted and fun conversations are a nice change from the usual plotting and scheming.”

He won’t deny it, Dipper is incredibly shocked when Wendy snaps, voice cold, “Sure. Look, I don’t care or believe any of your cover stories. Just know if you take one step out of line, make one wrong move that puts anyone, _especially Mabel_ , in danger, I will have your head.” 

They stare at each other for a minute. Wendy’s eyes shine with hatred, anger, and suspicion. Dipper’s are wide, but they reveal nothing. They don’t display the hurt and sadness that clenches at his heart because of the cold words from a once close friend. He nods numbly, returning to the pancake batter. 

They work in silence again. Dipper removes his gloves to avoid getting powder on the black fabric. Wendy moves the mass sausage and potatoes to two plates, setting them on the counter. She turns, and Dipper can feel her gaze burning into his mask, but he says nothing. 

Wendy snorts, “You know, you’re kind of lame for an assassin. You never talk back. Never really defend yourself. Just take the blows and accept them. But still, the act doesn’t work. We know you’re a murderer. A monster.” 

He hates that his hands shake. Or maybe Dipper doesn’t. Maybe he likes the small proof of whatever tiny slip of humanity he is holding onto so dearly hasn’t completely slip away. He clears his throat, “Well, you can’t expect to see anything more than a murderer if you don’t bother looking. And I don’t bother arguing because if I did it would make things worse. I am required to stay by the Pines’ side until we have all the navitas crystals in our possession, so I would prefer to do so without having to constantly watch my back.” 

All he gets in response is a snort of disbelief and the sound of boots leaving the room.

  


Dipper joins them about twenty minutes later, hands full with two plates of pancake towers, a couple of bottles of syrup balanced on either side. Mabel cheers upon his entry, jumping up from her seat to help him. No one shoots him ill glances outside of Wendy, so Dipper guesses she didn’t relay their conversation to them. 

They still talk of the route to Gravity Falls. Estimations of the time it will take. The supplies needed to be packed. Different checkpoints and pit stops they can make along the way. Dipper really wants to focus on Stanford’s growly voice, but he can’t. For no obvious reason, Dipper has become _very_ twitchy. Not even hungry anymore- then again, he had eaten a couple of the pancakes while making the large batch. 

Mabel nudges him with her shoulder, eyes sparkling with mischief. She says, “So, feel up for some exploring? Ford doesn’t plan on tracking the crystal ‘till tomorrow so we can all have some down time.” 

A smile tugs at his lips, “Yeah, sure. What time?” 

“As soon as I finish these pancakes, which, by the way,” She says, raising her voice and drawing the attention of the others, “Beat Stan’s pancakes. By, like, a million bajillion times. Just saying.” 

Stan glares at Mabel, eyes glinting with mischief and amusement, “Little traitor.” 

Fifteen minutes later, Dipper is standing outside the front door of the motel, arms crossed as he surveys the countryside and the shiny wheat gold of the weeds covering the landscape. Even though it hasn’t quite reached midmorning, the sun still beats down with a passion. It’s very tempting to change out of the black turtle neck. 

Mabel skips out of the motel, a small backpack strapped over her dress. Dipper blinks. He can’t honestly remember a time when Mabel wore a dress when they weren’t attending some event. It’s not fancy, obviously. It’s a simple flowy white top that connects to a light skirt of banana cream yellow. 

Mabel snorts at his surprised expression, elbowing him in the rib. “Careful, my uncles are very protective and might think all that staring means you’re interested. And can you believe they made me wear leggings? In _this_ heat? Ugh.” 

She links their arms and leads Dipper away from the motel (where Ford and Stan are definitely _not_ watching them from a window. Nope. Stan is also definitely not grinning mischievously, a hand extended out to Stanford- who, after a couple seconds which includes severe eye rolling and heavy sighing, hands him five shimmering crystals. Stan definitely doesn’t cackle, a smug expression on his face that reads, _I told you so_ ). They walk along a cracked road, talking of different things. Mabel’s pestering him on how Dipper knows how to make such amazing pancakes. 

“I’m just _saying_ ,” Mabel exclaims with a laugh, “You have some serious talent and I want to know where you learned that.” 

Shrugging, Dipper replies, “I learned during my time training with Bill.” 

Mabel’s eyes widen at the slip from the demon’s formal title, but doesn’t mention it. “That doesn’t seem like the kind of curriculum a dream demon- whose goal is to take over the entire universe, might I add- would be interested in teaching.” 

“No, I learned because my roommate loved to cook,” He laughs, grinning, “But she didn’t believe in my complete uselessness, so she took it upon herself to teach me. And she loved pancakes, so I learned how to perfect them. I would surprise her occasionally by making them before she woke up, but she had a habit of ruining it by waking up in middle of it.” 

“What a gentlemen.” Mabel grins, nudging him with her shoulder lightly. Dipper smiles back, eyes glittering with amusement. 

The two fall into a comfortable silence, the only sounds apart from their shoes catching along the dusty road is that of the wind ruffling the grass and a couple distant birds. The sun is still trying to bake them alive, but Dipper will take any moment with Mabel he can get. 

Reaching up, Mabel begins tugging her hair up into a ponytail. She glances at Dipper’s face, a soft and tender look in her eyes, and asks, “You two were really close, huh?” 

He can’t help but glance at her, “What? Oh, you mean… Yeah, we were close. I mean, we were somewhat stuck together every hour of the day since we were roommates and stuff, but yeah. She was great.” 

“She was there for the majority of the last seven years?” 

“Up until about two years ago, yes.” 

“Well, at least you had her there for the most part,” She sighs softly, and it sounds a little sad. “I wish I had my brother with me. Would’ve made things easier to deal with. But I’m glad you had her. I can’t imagine how hard those years were and how much worse they would have been without her.” 

Dipper glances away- the feeling of guilt tugging sharply at his heart- and up at the road ahead, surprised to see a grouping of buildings only a couple hundred meters away. A scowl tugs at Dipper’s eyebrows, and he turns to look back at the motel, but it’s too far back to make out. Odd. _Stupid mirages_ , Dipper thinks. 

Mabel wants to go in them all, excitedly dragging Dipper over to investigate the nearest one. It’s an older house, probably built decades before the apocalypse added more wear to it. The porch creaks under their feet, the paint chipping from the aged wood. Mabel delicately pushes the door open, slipping in with Dipper following suit. 

Clouds of dust puff and swirl into the air with each step on the old whining floorboards. The interior is relatively small, a couple worn couches littering a small seating area centered around a brick fireplace. The kitchen has cupboard doors hanging pathetically by their hinges. Nothing overly exciting. But Mabel’s happy, bouncing around eagerly, studying everything. 

They continue like that for a while, moving from building to building, slipping around and observing the only signs that human activity existed here less than a decade ago. It’s odd, seeing the books left open with a bookmark wedged between the pages, a note or reminder left on the table or fridge, or a lonely toy left awkwardly on the floor. The people had been living their everyday lives before the apocalypse reached them. 

It’s been around an hour when Dipper notices it. One of the first houses they visited is up ahead. He frowns, glancing behind them, but they haven’t taken any turns, instead sticking to the straight roadway. 

“Hey, um, Mabel?” From his right he can hear her make a soft hum of acknowledgement so he continues, “We didn’t walk in a circle, right?” 

She glances up at him, amusement glittering in her eyes, “Oh yes, Malum, because straight lines are definitely circular.” 

“No, Mabel, look,” He points at the house, “That was the fourth house we visited. Remember? That was the one with that really obnoxious teal couch.” 

Dipper watches her eyes widen in realization as Mabel whips around to look behind them like he had done moments before. Her eyes narrow and she puts her hands on her hips, making a big show of looking back and forth from the suspicious house to the road behind them. After a minute or so Mabel announces, raising a finger in the air, “We’ll head back the way we came. This is a small town, so maybe they were just very unoriginal and lacked creativity and made an identical house? Anyway, if we head back we’ll end up at the motel eventually.” Her voice is filled with confidence, but Dipper can detect a slight waver in it. He nods, hoping to keep her optimistic. 

But they don’t reach the hotel. Dipper’s estimation- based on the sun’s position- is they have been out here wandering around for at least two hours. Not including the time they took to reach the town and the time they spent strolling around in a previously fairly carefree mood. No matter how far they backtrack there always seems to be more houses, and Dipper realizes some are beginning to repeat as well. 

Eventually Dipper drags Mabel to nearby house, sitting down in the shade on the groaning wood porch and drinking some of the water they packed. The sun is just too hot and if they continue walking they’ll have exhausted themselves and made no progress in ditching this now shitty town. 

The duo sit in silence, slowly sipping at the not-so-refreshing-and-disgustingly-warm water, thinking to themselves about the situation. Dipper’s mind is whirling and trying to process the possibilities and the probability of each one. The voice (which, strangely enough, has been growing quieter with each day) pipes up its own thoughts on the strange dilemma, _You guys stopped in this town to collect a crystal, right?_

Dipper’s brows furrow and he glares at the mirages that seem to dance mockingly in the distance, “Yeah, why?” 

_Well, the crystals are incredibly powerful. And this could be a side effect of the crystal. A sort of… defense mechanism._

The assassin shakes his head, “No, none of the other crystals did that. This one wouldn’t. And besides, a crystal- an inanimate object- can’t create defense mechanisms. Especially not an illusion of this scale.” 

_The crystals always have a side effect on the area in which they reside. The first must have had a more negative energy wave, explains why the demon was attracted to the area at least- especially since the crystals are a **pure** power source and would normally repel them. And you weren’t there when they collected the second so you wouldn’t have seen any of its effects. And as for the defense mechanisms, I am going to assume the beings who created these power sources would want to keep it protected from unworthy creatures… and you both are human- for the most part- and therefore have unworthy characteristics. _

“Then why would only this one do it?” 

The voice sighs in exasperation, _Because each crystal is only a fragment, they once used to be whole. Therefore they may carry certain traits of the original, but not all. Kind of like they way you inherit certain traits from each parent but not all._

“Oh… okay. I’m going to tell Mabel and sort things out from there.” 

She listens to his explanation without interrupting once, nodding every once in awhile. When he finishes, Mabel looks back out at the road from their seat on the porch, “Of course we manage to get caught in some kind of weird boobytrap without anyone else here,” She groans loudly, “God Stan and Ford are going to _freak_. Probably going to think we’re making out or something.” 

His cheeks are burning, probably a bright rosy red, and Dipper is suddenly very glad his mask will hide most of it, though it does nothing to disguise the way his eyes widen. “U-um. No. Like, no offense to you or anything, but nope that is definitely not happening. _Ever_.”

Mabel laughs and shrugs, “Well, anyway, how do you suppose we ditch this place?” 

Looking back at the rundown town, Dipper thinks for a minute, “Find the source of it.” 

“Alrighty then. Come hither, Malum, let us go findeth a crystal.” Mabel says, jumping to her feet and marching back out to the road, a broad grin lighting up her features. 

Dipper chuckles, shaking his head as he stands to follow her. 

**Stanley**

Stanley grins while watching the two teens stroll away from the motel. He nudges Ford with an elbow in the rib, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively, “See, told you so!” 

The scientist sighs at his brother’s childish behavior, rolling his eyes, but pulling out the agreed payment nonetheless, “This doesn’t prove anything.” 

Eyebrows shooting up his forehead, Stan laughs, “Oh really? Then why you payin?” 

The scientist doesn’t respond beyond an annoyed glance in Stan’s direction, which produces more loud laughter. They move back into the small dining room, where Soos and Wendy currently sit. They two young adults both look up when they enter. 

“So when we goin’ out and grabbin’ that crystal?” Soos asks, stuffing a potato chip in his mouth. 

They all look to Stanford, “Tomorrow. We’re going to take a day to just relax for now. Hopefully tomorrow won’t be as hot and miserable as it today.” 

Wendy quirks an eyebrow, “Why didn’t we just go today and get it over with, take downtime tomorrow instead?” 

“Mabel’s been looking kinda down lately, and since she really wanted to explore with Malum today we decided we could delay the search by a day.” Stan says. 

The ginger’s eyes narrow, “Why do you guys trust him with her? We know for a fact the freak is a murderer and yet you two are perfectly fine with Mabel spending an entire day alone and unsupervised with him.” 

The two older adults remain silent, mostly out of shock at the sudden outburst. Stanford shifts his feet awkwardly, glancing at his brother. Stan groans, “Oh come on. Malum isn’t that bad. Just emotionally and psychologically damaged and broken. He’s still a human-” 

“Or so we think.” Wendy snaps. 

“And I’m going to continue treating him like one,” Stan doesn’t stop at the interruption, choosing to glare at the young woman instead. “Look, I’ve explained this before- this ‘freak’ may be the only way of gaining information on Dipper. So there is no way I’m going to be breaking the trust I have gained with him so far. Not to mention Mabel is rather fond of him, for whatever reason that may be.” 

Wendy opens her mouth to reply, eyes blazing, but Soos speaks up first in a quieter tone- quiet enough that they miss what he says. They ask him to repeat, and Soos says, “Malum reminds her a little of Dipper. At least, that’s what she told me when I asked. Said he has the same dorky awkwardness. That and he doesn’t treat her like some prize to be won or anything.” 

His statement is met with surprised looks. Stanford murmurs thoughtfully, “He would also make an exceptional ally if we could force him to switch sides.” 

They all nod in agreement- excluding Stanley, who looks annoyed with his brother for saying that- but Wendy still looks agitated, though a lot less so. Apparently they were able to help ease her worries. Stan wanders off to his designated room, choosing to rest for a while, as he didn’t sleep much the night before. He had been going over different plans and strategies with Ford, and time just slipped away from them both and before long the sun was saying its first hellos of the day. 

Sleep came fairly easy despite the uncomfortable bed and scratchy sheets, and the dreams were rather uneventful. The scene Stan woke up to, however, is quite the opposite. Ford is pacing the dining area, Wendy is aggressively sharpening her axe, and Soos isn’t eating anything, instead gazing out the window in a worried daze. 

Stan sleepily runs a hand through messy stone gray hair, “What’s going on?” 

“They aren’t back yet, and the sun will set in the hour.” Ford says, voice more gruff than usual. There’s worry in his eyes, which makes Stan worry more. His brother is very talented at keeping emotions in check and from bleeding through onto his features. Ford must be _very_ distressed if it’s making a physical appearance. 

Going for optimism, Stan says, “Maybe they just got carried away in the excitement of a creepy abandoned town and the idea of being alone together.” 

A halfhearted laugh escapes Wendy and she glances out the window, expression dark, “I hope so,” 

**Mabel**

Finding the crystal is easier said than done. It had taken her and Malum at least another hour and a half to find the house that opened the gateway to the crystal. Which was a huge, confusing, and incredibly trippy maze of monochrome. Mabel doesn’t know when, but at some point after they had entered the maze of towering gray walls and mirrors that often defies the laws of physics (then again, magic is probably involved so why not be able to walk on the ceiling, right?) she and Malum had become separated. 

She desperately tries to remain calm and _think_ her way out of this. Which, again, is easier said than done. Coming to dead end after dead end of walls and mirrors and sudden plummeting deaths grows tiring after the first fifty or so. Luckily there haven’t been any monsters or demons- shit, there’s no wood to knock on. Oh well. Anyway, so far the maze has been frustratingly lonely. 

Mabel starts calling for Malum, voice echoing back from every which way and making her even more desperate. _Okay, take a deep breath, you’re going to be fine,_ the calming voice of her dear brother soothes. A coping mechanism Mabel developed after losing Dipper: remembering his voice and imagining him whisper encouraging words.

_Okay, let’s think about this. We know the crystal is an energy source right?_ Dipper’s voice continues, gentle and kind in guiding Mabel, _How about you try and use your magic as a sort of magnet to guide you to it? Your magic should be attracted to a source that strong._

A firm nod of her head, and Mabel closes her eyes- there are definitely no tears crawling down her cheeks right now- and tugs at her magic. It responds, humming to life. At first, it doesn’t feel like it’s working and Mabel begins to panic, but within a few second she can feel a strong and steady pull. 

_There we go. Now, follow that tug, but still be careful and don’t get hurt_

And so she begins to slowly move through the weaving maze, taking turns she had originally dismissed. The tug begins getting stronger with each step, so Mabel knows she must be getting closer. 

The Maze begins to darken, the stormy gray walls shifting to a series of blacks. But Mabel continues forward, a small glowing orb hovering in the palm of her hand and casting a magenta glow across her soft features and the surrounding walls. Finally, _finally_ , Mabel reaches it. A large circular room, and in the center on a pedestal, glows the radiant crystal. But that’s not what catches her gaze. No, that’s not what causes her concentration for the orb and tracking the crystal to break, to shatter rather violently. No, that’s not it. 

That is caused by the figure on the opposite side of the room. She can feel the tears welling up in her eyes because _it’s been so long._ His soft brown hair. His warm eyes that would always light up and fill with warmth when they joked together. Mabel takes a couple steps forward, staring disbelievingly at him, then darts forward, arms outstretched.

_“Dipper!”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh no, another cliff hanger? Well bummer. Haha jk I love doing that.
> 
> As always, I hope you enjoyed!  
> Comments are always much appreciated and read! <3
> 
> Love you guys! <3


	14. A Choice of Strength and Weakness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pines twins have a moment and Dipper shares a thought with Mabel. Any small ties of trust are broken for the most part, and we get a sneak peak at evilness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't kill me. I know I was all like, 'oh yeah I'll have the next chapter out before the next month, hahahahahahaha' well fuck you, past self. 
> 
> So in a quick summary of why there was once again a delay, 1st I had finals, 2nd I was visiting family in corn country and literally had no connection so I couldn't write stuff (and I hate writing it physically), and then I was at AnimeExpo for my friend's birthday for the four days. 
> 
> So, as always, I sincerely apologize for the delay, I know there are some really fans that wait for each new chapter with great anticipation, and believe me when I say I appreciate your love and support. Reading the some of the comments you guys leave are so inspirational and get me writing in minutes (*cough* FlamingPineapple, NigiyakanaAki, WyldeHeart, LuminereLucifer, LumianaKatenke *cough*).
> 
> I had a really difficult time writing this chapter, I don't know why but I was having issues with processing how the characters should be reacting to the situations I was writing and then how I wanted to write out the following events and such. So if it sincerely sucks, please tell me because I will totally delete this chapter and rewrite it.
> 
> Anyway, enough with my blabbering, go read and I hope you enjoy <3

_Finally, _finally_ , Mabel reaches it. A large circular room, and in the center on a pedestal, glows the radiant crystal. But that’s not what catches her gaze. No, that’s not what causes her concentration for the orb and tracking the crystal to break, to shatter rather violently. No, that’s not it. _

_That is caused by the figure on the opposite side of the room. She can feel the tears welling up in her eyes because _it’s been so long._ His soft brown hair. His warm eyes that would always light up and fill with warmth when they joked together. Mabel takes a couple steps forward, staring disbelievingly at him, then darts forward, arms outstretched._

_“Dipper!”_

  


**Dipper**

Dipper feels like a bit of an idiot. He hadn’t intended, of course, for his mask to fall off. He hadn’t really been expecting the sudden appearances of walls and disappearances of the floor at random points throughout the maze. So Dipper had tripped, falling at least thirty feet or so before hitting the ground. _Hard_. The black mask had slipped from his face on impact, leaving Dipper to slowly move and groan in pain without any protection to his identity. Luckily Mabel and him had gotten separated a little ways back- how Dipper wasn’t quite sure, it seemed like one second they were standing side by side and the next second Dipper was talking to a wall- and so it hadn’t seemed too important to slip the mask back into its rightful place. Especially when his head was aching and a painful throb was pulsing throughout the length of his spine and neck. 

And now Dipper sincerely regrets that decision. It isn’t that he doesn’t appreciate this _very_ affectionate hug from Mabel- he does, very much so. But Dipper is afraid. Afraid of what could happen to her, to the family- not to mention himself- if Bill learned of this slip up. And it’s a _big_ slip up. His chest aches painfully, though now no longer as a consequence of the physical fall and from other much more emotional and mental reasons. 

Mabel’s grip is tight, nearing painful, and her head is buried in the crook of his shoulder and neck, the sound of sniffling being muffled by his turtleneck. A frown sculpts his face, leaving Dipper’s expression sad and somewhat broken, as his hand slowly travels to tug the mask from his pant pocket. Then, once again at a slow pace as to not disturb Mabel and cause her to look up at him suddenly, Dipper slides the mask back into place on the upper portion of his face. 

Swallowing feels as though Dipper is attempting to eat glass shards, and he reaches up slowly, hesitantly patting Mabel’s back in a light and slightly awkward manner. She pulls back to look at him, eyes sparkling both with hope and happiness and unspilled glittering tears, though the smile quickly fades from her face when she notices the change in the figure. 

The brunette glances around the room, paying little mind to the luminous crystal, her eyes instead flitting around to the shadows, searching for something. For some _one_. Mabel looks back to Dipper, maple irises confused as she pulls further away from the previous embrace, “Wait- I thought…” Dipper keeps his face stilled and emotionless aside from a feigned, mild pity. Mabel swallows, eyes darting around once more before continuing her thoughts, “I… I thought you were Dipper.” 

A thoughtful hum in the back of his throat, “It was probably an illusion of sorts. The crystal playing tricks with your mind.” Dipper shuffled his feet, mind racing to think of something to say to build on the lie further, to make it more believable, “I kept seeing glimpses of the people I once cared deeply for, so it wouldn’t be surprising. Especially considering we are in the crystal’s direct presence.” 

“Oh,” Mabel’s voice is quiet, and it wavers, laced with heartbreak and defeat. She sniffs harshly, quickly and desperately attempting to wipe away the tears threatening to fall in rivers. Dipper summons a small piece of fabric- a handkerchief Paige had given to him once, she was oddly fond of them for whatever reason and would whip one out whenever the need arose- and offers it to Mabel. She snorts in mild amusement, snatching the fabric away to dab lightly at her eyes, clearing her throat. Then Mabel straightens, trying to maintain a calm and unaffected demeanor. 

She clears her throat again, muttering in a bitter tone, “That makes sense. Pretty pathetic of me- and stupid- there’s no possible way it could have been him… he wouldn’t be _here_ of all places… Anyway, sorry about that, must have freaked you out a bit.”

Dipper’s lips press together into a thin line, a thoughtful scowl scrunching his eyebrows together. “I don’t think seeing him in the illusion makes you, in any way, pathetic. Don’t fall into that trap and state of mind, not if you don’t have to.” Dipper says. His choice of words must surprise Mabel, because she glances at him, expression questioning. He elaborates, “Love isn’t something that makes you weak. You’re _incredibly_ strong if you choose to love someone- it requires trust. It means you become vulnerable for a world of hurt, and yet do you stop loving the person? Sure, your love can be used against you and sometimes love fades- _but love itself doesn’t make you a weak person_. It means you’re strong enough to put that risk of getting hurt into your life. Now, not trusting anyone with your love doesn’t make you weak either- it’s your decision after all and circumstances are different for every person. But still, loving your brother that much- holding onto that hope and love for him after _all these years_ \- will _never_ make you a weak person, Mabel.”

Tears glitter in the maple eyes again as Mabel stares at him, wide-eyed, but she makes no move to brush them away. Instead, after having stood frozen in something of a daze, she starts forward, darting back to Dipper and crashing into him with another tight embrace. Dipper is surprised, to say the least, eyes wide and arms hovering awkwardly at his sides before moving to wrap around her as well. Mabel’s crying again, though not violently. Just tears and hiccups and sniffles. Dipper rests his cheek against her head, one hand rubbing soothing circles into Mabel’s back and the other wrapped securely around her waist. 

He loses track of how long they stay like that, but Mabel eventually pulls away once more. She wipes her eyes again, releasing a shaky sigh. Mabel looks at him, a hesitant and gentle smile forming on her lips, “Thank you, I… I really needed to hear that, I think.” 

“It’s no problem,” Dipper murmurs, searching her face for any signs that Mabel may start crying again. She begins to hold out the handkerchief, to return it to him, but Dipper pushes her hand away. “No, keep it. I have plenty to use if I need one. Besides, you might need it again.” He teases in a light tone of voice, hoping to ease out of the emotional atmosphere. 

She huffs out a laugh, sniffling a couple more times before looking around the room again. This time, however, her attention is solely focused on the crystal, “I swear, I’m not normally this emotional, _at all_. I guess the stress of this specific trip is screwing with me. Anyway, I’m going to assume that’s the crystal we came to collect?” 

The crystal is shining brightly from its spot on the pedestal, illuminating the room in a rainbow of colors. “I assume so. Should we collect it?” 

Mabel glances at him curiously, “Um, yeah why wouldn’t we?” 

He thinks for a minute, looking at the bright gem thoughtfully, then shrugs, “I don’t know, your uncles might get mad? Guess there isn’t a reason not to, I mean, we’re here, there wouldn’t be any point in just leaving it and then have to repeat the trip tomorrow.” 

They step into the center of the room, gazing at the crystal, but as Dipper reaches out to grab it, the voice hurriedly warns him, _Woah there! Don’t go touching that, unless you want to completely ruin our plan. If that’s the case, feel free and go ahead. Screw up all our hopes and dreams._

Dipper frowns, confused, but hesitates anyway, “What do you mean?” 

_I mean you absorbed one of the sister crystals and its power, so how do you think this crystal is going to react?_

“Are you saying this crystal is going to try and kill me? That would be a stupid tombstone, ‘In loving memory of Dipper Pines. He was murdered by an angry rock.’” 

The voice huffs, annoyed, and Dipper can practically feel its nonexistent eye roll, _No, smartass, I meant that it might make you pass out or start doing some weird shit or something. Point is, these crystals all used to be one giant one right?_

“Right…” 

_And it would view you as part of itself. Do you see where I’m going with this?_

With a light sigh, Dipper pulls his hand away, “Yeah, I guess so. It would try to rejoin with its sister or something, which would be weird and I don’t really want to try that.” 

Mabel glances at him, confused, “What’s wrong?” 

_Oh, crap. Umm, improvise or something._

Wow, that’s helpful. “Um, nothing. I just, um, well I figured since this is a crystal of purity and goodness and such, that I probably shouldn’t touch it. Since I’ve been working around and with so many demons and monsters over the past seven years. Might view me as a threat or something...” 

An expression of curiosity and confusion morphs into one of understanding, and Dipper internally sighs in relief, “Oh! I hadn’t even thought of that. I can carry it, I guess. Good thing I brought a backpack.” Mabel uses both hands and steadily moves to hold the crystal close to her chest. Dipper helps maneuver it into her backpack, being careful not to touch it. 

He looks up, surveying the room now that the main light source is gone. It’s much darker, almost menacing with the shadows surrounding them, the only glimmer being mirrors that reflect their every movement. Dipper swallows, offering Mabel his hand with a weak smile, “Let’s get out of here, yeah?” 

**Stanley**

The atmosphere at the motel grew more and more tense as the hour dragged on and neither Mabel nor Malum returned. No amount of light hearted joking or calming words could ease them out of their growing panic. Stanley had attempted to stay positive, to see the possibilities behind the older teens’ lengthening absence. The others had given up hours ago while Stan had napped, the first obviously having been Wendy, with Soos close behind. Stanford’s face remains unreadable, no expression flitting across his features, but it’s clear that his stance on the topic of the young assassin has changed back to his previous position (though he had never _really_ trusted Malum, even after Stanley’s talk with him). Malum is back to being viewed as a threat- and nothing more. 

And try as Stan might, his faith in the young man is slowly dripping and slipping down the metaphorical drain. _Dammit_. Stan glances out the window, his thick brows in a deep and frustrated furrow, the sun having just disappeared below the horizon, having said its final goodbyes to the world for the day and the sky blurring into the creamy oranges and magentas before the night fully settles. 

With a heavy sigh, Stan rises from the chair by the window of his room, deciding to join the others in the dining room and entrance of the motel instead. On arrival, Stan notices Wendy and Soos equipping themselves with weapons and various pieces of lightweight armor while Stanford stands in the entrance of the doorway, a couple of heavy duty guns peaking out from underneath his long coat. 

Frowning, Stan asks, “I take it we’re going to go search for them?” 

Wendy nods grimly, face pulled into a tight scowl, “We can’t just leave Mabel out there. We have no idea what kind of monsters are around, and there is no way I’m going to just stand by when she is out there with one of Bill’s lapdogs.” 

Sighing heavily, Stanley nods in defeat, accepting the turn of events and moving around to prepare for the venture into the night. He slips a couple guns onto his belt as well, though they are nowhere near the same power as Ford’s, and pulls on a thick black jacket. Stan returns to his room briefly, snatching up his golden knuckles and slipping them on. They originally weren’t anything special, but after studying some magic with his brother, Stanley was able to cast a simple spell on them that would increase his strength and power. He especially appreciated them since they work smoothly with his magic type- an offensive type that mainly works through physical punches and attacks (those boxing lessons his dad had made him work through were extremely useful now) as well as heavy duty shielding spells. Stanford called him the ‘tank’ of the group whenever they were discussing fighting techniques, whatever that means. He never really understood nerd talk. 

He rejoins his family on the porch of the motel, eyes skimming over the stretching plains and down the road, dimly hoping to see Mabel, but empty and abandoned, looking rather lonely is the darkening outdoors. Soos summons a glowing orb in the palm of his outstretched hand, the light shining out in a warm ember red and extending their visibility of the dusty road for a couple meters or so. Stanford takes the lead, moving in a quick and determined stride with Wendy on his left, Stan on his right, and Soos slightly behind them. 

  


The darkness of twilight descends with the full blanket of night following suit, the crickets taking cue to begin their cheerful singing and chirping. They walk for an hour or so, from what Stan can tell- though he’s probably off as his mind and train of thought are thrown off by the worry for his dear niece- when they finally spot the duo. The first buildings are a little ways behind the pair, who are moving sluggishly in their direction. 

Stan is either the first one to notice or the others just care much more about the strategic formation than he does, because he’s immediately dashing forward. Malum has an arm thrown over Mabel’s shoulder and is leaning heavily on her, his feet dragging slightly on the ground. Mabel doesn’t look too bothered by this, instead she continues to happily babble about whatever they were discussing, a pleased grin playing across her lips. Her eyes light up at the sight of the group moving towards them. 

“Oh, hey! Sorry we were gone for so lon-” Mabel is interrupted with a squeak as Stan pulls her into a crushing hug. She laughs, and Stanley just holds her tighter, fighting to keep any tears at bay. It’s not his fault, the whole Dipper situation just left him a little… guilty. And broken and on edge. So Stan just grips Mabel tight, glad to see that she is safe and unharmed, if not a little chilled being in a sleeveless dress. Of course, their peaceful and heartwarming reunion couldn’t be uneventful. _No, never_. 

Ironically, it isn’t a monster or any actual threat that ruins the moment. Nope. It’s just Stanford. Who decides to punch Malum. With an enhanced glove. And so, with a shriek of protest from Mabel, who looks rather distressed at the sight of the young man being smacked through the air, Malum goes sailing backwards about twenty feet or so, landing roughly and hazardously rolling on the ground before losing momentum and stopping flat on his back. 

Malum coughs, hacking into the dust- which really isn’t helping- and sounding somewhat like a dying or just incredibly distressed seal. Stanley keeps a tight grip on Mabel’s wrist while she tries to break away to help him up, watching Stanford as he strides toward the assassin. He plants one foot firmly on Malum’s chest, harshly pushing any air from his lungs in a sharp and pained sounding gasp, swiftly pulling out one of his guns and aiming it between the boy’s eyes. 

Stanley’s eyes widen, “Wait, Ford, hold on a second.” 

The scientist waves him off, along with Mabel’s loud and desperate protests. Instead, Stanford looks down upon Malum, who’s watching with wide and shocked eyes, “Alright, I have tried to remain friendly and polite, but it seems to me that my behavior has lead to you feeling much too comfortable.” Ford’s fingers move, and a loud _click_ sounds from the gun and he pushes down more forcefully on Malum’s chest. “You are not to go anywhere with Mabel alone. Ever again. I don’t care what your excuse is, if I so much as see you _breathe_ wrong in the direction of any of the people present, especially Mabel, I will _personally_ cut off your head and mail it to Cipher.” 

Apparently the threats and show of anger is too much for Mabel, who pulls free from Stan’s grip and runs toward the two, shoving Stanford off Malum. Ford stumbles, turning to look at Mabel with wide eyes. The brunette’s eyes are blazing as she visibly shakes with anger, “He didn’t do anything, so back the fuck off! We were late because of this,” She pulls off her backpack, reaching in and pulling out- 

Stanley stiffens. It’s a navitas crystal. Stanford’s face visibly darkens, as he snarls, “You two weren’t supposed to go looking for that! We were doing that tomorrow, what the hell-” 

“We found it entirely by accident! It had trapped us in some sort of loop and maze thing and the only way out was to find the damn thing, so what did you expect us to do?!” Mabel snapped, moving to pull Malum to his feet and then slips back into her place under his arm as support. “Also, since all of you seem so keen on villainizing him, I’ll have you know that the maze then set up traps after we collected the crystal. So we were just walking normally, you know la de dah, and then a fricking spear was being hurled at us! And you know what? Malum, our Mr. Resident-Evil, _pushed me out of the way and got himself stabbed like a complete moron!_ So fuck off. We’re going to head back to the motel, don’t talk to me right now because I’m pissed off, and Soos I am expecting you to use your healing magic on him once we’re back. Have a good day.” 

And they watch as Mabel storms off, a slightly shocked looking Malum in tow, back in the direction of the motel. It’s silent for a moment, everyone standing in a state of dazed shock. Wendy is the first to break from the trance, sighing and grumbling heavily under her breath and moving to follow them, probably to ensure Mabel’s safety in her mind and Soos follows close behind, glancing back at the older twins. Stan glances at Ford, searching his face. 

“That probably wasn’t your wisest move. Both in terms of Mabel’s reaction and the boy’s.” 

“I don’t care.” 

Stanley’s head snaps back to look at his brother again, “You do remember that this kid may be the only connection-” 

“To Dipper? Yes, I am completely aware of that,” Stanford’s face is stormy, eyes flashing menacingly, “Why do you think Cipher chose him? He is perfectly aware of how desperate we are for just about anything that has to do with the boy. I’m going to bet you the kid has nothing to do with Dipper, probably never even met him, and has just been instructed to screw with us as much as possible.” 

“But there’s a _chance_! And we can’t just throw it away because the odds are unlikely. Bill’s already stolen away one member of the family, let’s not give him motive to take another.” Stanford begins walking in the direction of the others, but Stan grips his shoulder firmly, spinning Ford to look into his eyes, “Okay?”

An annoyed sigh, but Stanford relents, though rather hesitantly, “Alright, let’s just go already,” He turns away, marching away. When he’s out of earshot, the scientist mutters darkly, “I don’t think getting even counts as motive though. _An eye for an eye, right?_ Well, I think his favorite lapdog is of equal payment.” 

**Bill Cipher**

The wall color here is atrocious. Honestly, stone grays for the ceiling, floors, and walls? And it isn’t even decent marble or quartz or anything even half decent looking, it’s a cold cement gray. And there aren’t any windows, no pieces of entertainment, no decorations to up the appeal of the place. 

Bill’s lips curl in disgust as he walks down a corridor, the only sound apart from the distant clatters of monsters and demons working elsewhere in the building is the rapid clack of his shoes on the cold floor. He throws open the large and important looking wooden doors with a wave of his hand, eyes focusing immediately on the blonde figure sitting at a large and intricately designed desk. 

“Ah, Gideon Gleeful, it has been a while, no?” Bill calls, snapping the doors closed while approaching the desk. Gideon starts at the sound, jumping slightly in his large cushiony seat, having been distracted by some documents and blueprints on the desk, eyes filled with surprise.

The watery blues light up, a grin tugging at his lips. Gideon leaps up, moving out from behind the desk to greet his guest, “Why, Mr. Bill Cipher! What a pleasant surprise!” 

The demon hums, slitted golden eyes studying the man. The devious boy had grown much over the years since their initial meeting, gaining height as well as a devilish fiery passion after his own heart. Well, Bill doesn’t have a heart- whatever, you get the point. He still styles his hair back with an overly excessive amount of hair gel and wears the hideous teal suits. _Teal_ of all colors. Bill wonders vaguely if he was damaged as a child- dropped on the head or some other eventful tragedy- but he doesn’t care enough to learn and just accepts that not everyone can have such an impeccable fashion sense as his own. 

Bill whips around, facing the door once more, the long tail of his canary yellow coat flickering behind him. He raises an inky black gloved hand, making a vague gesture out the door, “Come, we have _much_ to discuss, and I’m on a tight schedule.” 

  


The air on the mountain is cold, crisp, and refreshing. The two stand out on a large balcony pavilion of sorts, the wind whipping around them with a raw fury. Bill stands with his hands clasped behind his back, eyes focused on the distant horizon. Gideon fidgets slightly at his side, causing Bill to smirk. The boy was one of his more favored apprentices (not his favorite however, his favorite was currently running the tedious errand of supervising the Pines) because he was so willing to prove himself- become something of a demon himself in the process- but no matter how confident he appeared to be, young Gleeful was still intimidated by him. Good.

Breathing in deeply, Bill spins on his heels, grinning wickedly at his companion, fangs glinting in the dying light of the setting sun. “Alright, Gleeful, you have a very large and fruitful opportunity that will be arriving on your doorstep in a few short days, a week at most. And I’m expecting you to take full advantage of it.” 

A smirk crosses the boy’s pale lips, an intimidating look morphing his face, somewhat at odds with the innocent freckles that are scattered generously across his cheeks, “Oh really? Do share.” 

The demon turns his attention back to the horizon, “Dipper Pines is currently running an errand for me,” Gideon scowls at the name (he had always been jealous that it was the Pines boy that was chosen for the assassin squad and not himself) but wisely doesn’t interrupt, “He is currently supervising the Pines as they collect the navitas crystals for me. And from what I can tell, they will need to pass through your territory soon.” 

“That doesn’t seem to be a very wise choice for the job, if I may be so bold to say. Besides, why is this an opportunity to me?” The boy is frowning, confusing tugging his eyebrows to a scowl, and Bill can’t refrain from the eyeroll. 

“I know incredibly well it was a risk, however, Pinetree is perfectly aware of what will happen to the pests if he does anything I find foolish. And I’m surprised, Gleeful, I thought you would have been jumping up and down like an excited school girl,” The demon pauses, eyeing Gideon and waiting for the boy’s realization, but no such thing happens. So he sighs, “The girl you are obsessed with, Shooting Star, she is in the traveling party and will be passing through here.” 

His blue eyes widen comically, “Mabel?” He whispers, almost giddy with excitement before it’s crushed with an annoying thought, “But Dipper won’t allow anything to happen to her, so I have no gain here,” 

“Pinetree is on a very tight leash, he won’t be able to do anything to stop you. And if he does I will personally pay him a visit and remind him of his place.” Gideon practically glows with excitement, his mind obviously racing with the possibilities the next few days could hold. Bill clears his throat, taking a more serious tone, “However, they _do_ need to pass through here, so I can’t have you killing them or anything. That holds true for Dipper as well. It is still his duty to keep the Pines in check, so no killing or maiming him.” 

Gideon bows his head in acknowledgement, “Understood, sir.” 

With that, the demon spins back towards the building, calling out over his shoulder as he walks away, the wicked grin transforming his features once more, “Just play by my rules and you’ll be fine- I don’t really care if you pick up a pretty toy to play with while you're at it.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hahahahahahahahahaha poor Dipper. His life just sucks and tends to fall apart. Whoops. And Bill is an ass. Like, don't misinterpret my love for Bill Cipher, he's actually one of my favorite all time characters, but in this story haha nope. Not today mr dorito. There were some cosplays of Bill at AX and I just shrieked every time I saw them (one of them was with an amazing Dipper and Mabel).
> 
> Anyway, please leave your thoughts and comments below, I love to read everything you have to say!
> 
> Alrighty, hope you enjoyed this chapter, that will be all until next update! Love you guys! :) <3


	15. The Mountain Pass (Part 1)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't kill me. 
> 
> So yay, I updated ;D congratulations to me. This is part 1 of one of the most awaited parts of the fic.  
> The plot thickens ewe i feel like people are going to find me and beat the crap out of me eventually. (feel free, I'm trash and that would be the most exciting thing in my entire life)  
> I do apologize for the wait.... again.... and for any future waits.... I rewrote this chapter... 5 times? I think. Like, completely deleted and rewrote and repeat and such. So I hope you like???
> 
> Also!!!! I am so sorry for any spelling/grammar errors, I official have no editors to check me (crie they both ditched me) , so I check myself and I end up missing stuff :/
> 
> ANYWAY....... Enjoy (mwahahahahahaha this might be painful)

**. . .**

The majority of the lower status demons and monsters are cleaning the fortress. They set up the guest rooms, dust off artifacts, and increase the security around any doors that their soon-to-arrive guests should stay away from. They also hide the blueprints to plans, letters from the head boss, and any prototypes lying about. 

In what must be the most plush room of the entire fortress is a lone figure. He carefully combs his hair, using way too much gel- seriously, you could probably stretch the amount he’s using for an entire year- and then turns to the impressive wardrobe standing tall in the corner of the room. He rifles through suit after suit, making a displeased tutting sound at each disappointment. Everything must be perfect, after all, and he cannot have a simple suit ruin his first impressions. 

Chubby fingers still, absentmindedly running along the shoulders of another fine suit, and he pulls it out, watery blue eyes trailing over the length of the outfit. It’s a baby blue suit with an exquisite coat tail, a deep gray button down paired up to wear underneath. The fabric is incredibly sparkly, shimmering when turned in the light. _Perfect_. The figure quickly changes into the suit, adding a deep gray bowtie to the outfit, and then he turns, studying himself in the mirror with a somewhat creepy grin. _Perfect_.

He quickly makes his way down to the main hall, barking orders and waving a hand to personally right anything he considers to be out of place. The sun is just beginning to peek over the horizon, kissing the land in a warm honey glow of dawn, when he hears it. The rumbling sound of car engines, multiple, if he is hearing it correctly. And not the deep thunder of his cargo trucks, no, these sound more like pedestrian vehicles. A grin splits the individual’s pale face, and he hungrily eyes the RV that rolls up to the entrance. 

“Now let the fun begin,” He cackles before strolling forward to greet his much awaited guests. 

**Mabel**

The ride to Midas was boring. Midas was boring. The drive away from Midas and to Gideon’s pass through the mountains was boring. And Mabel is pissed. _Probably_ because Malum is avoiding her at every turn, always finding some half-assed excuse to slink away, even going as far as to get a freaking motorcycle to drive on his own alongside them. _Probably_ because Ford is trying to redeem himself and talk with Mabel as though it isn’t completely his fault that Malum is ignoring her. _Probably_ because the rest of her family snuck off while she had been _sleeping_ so they could collect the crystal without her- to, you know, make sure Mabel doesn’t get hurt or anything. So Mabel is pissed. Actually, no. She isn’t pissed. Mabel is completely and utterly outraged. 

Which probably isn’t the best attitude to be in when you finally roll up to the entryway of Gideon’s ugly ass fortress, the pickup truck and Malum’s motorbike trailing not to far behind. There are monsters standing guard, from what Mabel can tell, and some sort of spell blocking the entrance. They’ve stopped, Stan and Ford whispering furiously to each other before slowly climbing out of the RV. 

Stan glances back at her, “Stay here, sweetheart. We’ll be right back.” Mabel doesn’t respond, choosing instead to glare out the window. The glare softens slightly when Malum finally rolls to a stop a couple feet away from the RV, carefully sliding off the seat and removing his helmet. He had changed into a more badass outfit back in Midas, where he adopted the tiny vehicle, now wearing what looks to be the classic gettup of a motorbiker, with a leather jacket and gnarly combat boots. The assassin glances at her uncles before sneaking onto the RV, where he’s beside Mabel in an instant. 

“Okay, Mabel, I just want to warn you ahead of time that Gideon will do everything in his power to shake your family and get them to turn on each other. Turn on me, more specifically, but I swear, whatever he says about me is more than likely not true or exaggerated to great extremes. Not only that, but he will be trying to turn you against your family,” Mabel rolls her eyes, ignoring the assassin’s pleading look, “Mabel, please, I know you’re mad at me, but my presence as your friend is tearing your family apart and I never wished that to happen. I lost my family and I never would wish that upon anyone else, so if I have to stay away from you to keep your family whole, I will do so. But please at least take heed of my advice.” 

Mabel softens slightly at his words, turning her gaze to study him. His face looks sincere, and curiously his aura is blooming with the dark shades of fear, regret, and... longing? Mabel sighs, nodding, “Okay, whatever. I wasn’t planning on trusting Gideon anyway, so don’t get so worked up.” 

She can’t say she isn’t surprised when a gloved hand hesitantly holds her own, “Stay safe and watch your back. And… please don’t believe anything he says about me.” And then he’s gone, slipping back out the RV’s door. Rapidly blinking out of her surprised and slightly shocked daze, Mabel sprints after him. 

The incredibly confusing assassin is quietly walking up to join the rest of Mabel’s family, where they are conversing with the one and only- Gideon Gleeful. Trying desperately to go unnoticed, Mabel sneaks over to stand beside Malum. He subtly glances at her, then directs his attention back to Gideon, who’s talking with Stan and Ford rather animatedly. Stan doesn’t look very please, his expression one that Mabel recognizes from when they had rotten eggs in the fridge. Mabel curiously turns her gaze to the young man as well, nearly snorting at the sight of his sparkly suit. She wholeheartedly supports sparkles and glitter, but that suit could blind a person. Malum must share her sense of amusement, because despite obvious traces of trying to keep a straight face, the corner of his lips twitch. 

Of course, Mabel is instantly at attention when the annoyingly high pitched voice is focusing on her, “And my-oh-my, is that dear Mabel? Why haven’t you grown into quite the beauty these past seven years. It really has been too long, darling.” Mabel stiffens under Gideon’s gaze, which is way too hungry for her to be comfortable. “Tell me, why have you been wasting your time with these lowlifes, Bill would have welcomed you as an apprentice with open arms. You would have been treated like the queen I know you to be.” 

Thoroughly disgusted, Mabel snaps, “I wouldn’t trade my family for a thousand lifetimes as a queen, certainly not if it meant I was to work under the creeper dorito.” 

The sinister chuckle surprises Mabel, and she, as well as her entire family, tenses further, but before Gideon can say whatever words have formed in his demented mind, a quiet, monotone voice speaks up from beside Mabel, “Mr. Gleeful, I do believe it is your duty to be welcoming the traveling party and their vehicles inside and not making them uncomfortable outside, especially since they have a private escort provided by Master Cipher. The drive here was not the most comfortable, as it lasted for many hours over not the most smooth roads, so I do believe they would appreciate to have a seat and possibly something to drink. Also, Master Cipher would not appreciate your disrespectful use of his name, especially not to people such as these who already do not think very highly of him.” 

Gideon stiffens, obvious anger written on his face as he moves the family apart to take a look at who just sassed him in the most polite manner possible, but upon seeing Malum, an evil grin splits his face, watery blue eyes dancing with a dangerous fire, “Oh, I didn’t see you there, _Malum_. Seeing as you are under me in station of command, I don’t appreciate you telling me what I should and shouldn’t be doing. In fact, I do believe you are under _my_ command as long as you are here, are you not?” 

Malum bows his head slightly, and Mabel can practically feel the anger sizzling off him, “Master Cipher did inform me that I was to be at your service once we arrived.” 

“Oh wonderful. _Now shut your mouth and don’t speak without my permission, dog._ ” Mabel can feel her eyes widen, and she can barely refrain from slapping him across the face. She isn’t the only one so shocked either, because apparently while the others aren't quite as fond of Malum as she is, they don’t like what they’re seeing or hearing. Wendy’s subtly moving to grip her axe and Stanford, while appearing to have no response to the insult, has a cold steel glinting in the depths of his eyes. 

But what hurts Mabel even more is the fact that Malum doesn’t even defend himself. He just stands there, staring at the ground and not even flinching at the insult. Her anger bubbles over, “Shut up, Gideon, and fuck off. He was just speaking the truth for us since none of us have any idea what we’re really supposed to be doing here.” 

The blond studies her for a minute, eyes cold and calculating, but instead of speaking against her, Gideon turns to look at their cars, “Alright, we will begin by having you drive those into the garage, then I’ll take you up to the dining hall. Now hurry along, I don’t want to wait all day.” And so he stands there with his arms firmly crossed over his chest, waiting as they move their vehicles indoors, watching them with a hawk-like stare. 

Once everyone has regrouped, Gideon turns and makes his way up a flight of stairs, motioning them to follow. Mabel walks alongside Malum, sending him a small comforting smile, but his face lacks emotions, unlike his aura. His aura is a swirling mess of emotions, more than Mabel has really seen this entire trip. There’s hatred and anger in deep shades of blue that are near black. And then there’s distrust and discomfort. Fear. Remorse. It makes Mabel sad to think that just being around Gideon has Malum already so screwed up. 

Reaching the top of the staircase, Gideon glances over his shoulder at them- or more specifically, Mabel and Malum. His voice drawls in an annoying know-it-all sort of way, “I didn’t know it was your mission to befriend the Pines, _Malum_. Then again, you never did enjoy following the rules and codes, did you? Hey,” Gideon turns, walking backwards so he can face his guests, a cruel glint in his eyes, “Did you all know _Malum_ means ‘doom’? Intriguing, right? That you have had ‘doom’ with you this entire trip? I find it _so _curious. Tell me, _Malum_ why on earth did your parents name you that? Did they really not love you at all?” __

Everyone’s eyes flick to Malum, curiosity and slight wariness teasing at their minds. He doesn’t answer immediately, his twitching jaw the only indicator of his discomfort, “‘Malum’... isn’t my true name. Not my birth name.” Mabel blinks, surprised and hurt that Malum had been lying to her the entire time, though she understands his reasoning when he continues, “Master Cipher assigned me the name before I left with the Pines. It’s temporary. Names have power over people, after all. But you should know this, Mr. Gleeful, after all, we _did_ train together. Surely your memory isn’t that bad that you would forget such simple information after a couple years?” 

Mabel wants to snicker at the sight of Gideon’s rapidly flushing freckled cheeks, but she refrains from it, knowing it probably wouldn’t make things better for Malum. Gideon tries to recover, but it’s kind of pointless, “Of course I remember, I just wanted the Pines to be aware of your lying and weasel-like nature.” 

“It’s a good thing weasels are adorable, then. I don’t think I could stand it if he were spider-like in nature.” Mabel jokes, nudging Malum with her shoulder. She doesn’t notice Gideon clenching his fists. 

  


The food is amazing and better than anything they’ve eaten in weeks- years, even. They were hesitant of it at first, but after watching Malum eat a couple servings and not keel over, the Pines decide the food is safe and can be eaten. Mabel is proud to say she ate enough for an Olympic swimmer, though the discomfort of a much too full stomach isn’t the best. Gideon sits at the head of the long table- which can seat fifteen people, more if you don’t mind a tight squeeze- and informs them of the basic business he runs here. His workers mine for materials for Bill, conduct magical experiments, and regulate the only passage over the Rocky Mountains. 

Mabel can’t help but ask about that, after all, this stretch of mountains is massive, how can this be the _only_ way over? Gideon responds in a nonchalant voice, casually buttering a scone, “If you were to take any other way, we have special demons that would hunt you down and kill you in some horrifying way before devouring your body and soul. We like to keep the remaining citizens in check.” 

Then Gideon focuses his attention on her uncles, first mocking Stan thoroughly before speaking with Ford in a little more of a civilized manner. It’s decided they will leave tomorrow night, as they do have a time constraint and while they are only a little over two weeks into their total of four, they don’t want to push things. The only real disagreement is when Gideon attempts to show them to their guest rooms, to which Ford firmly refuses. 

“Gideon, while we do appreciate the warm welcome, we would feel much more comfortable and have an easier time finding peace and rest in our RV. Familiar surroundings and all.” 

The blond’s eyes study the family quickly, once again calculating and cataloguing something- what, Mabel has no idea. He doesn’t try to stop them though, “Alright, if you insist that your shabby RV would be better than my extra comfy suites, than go ahead. I assume you’re all exhausted, so you can run along. I do expect you to be present for dinner, though.” 

Rather hesitantly, especially for the younger adults, they all dip their heads in thanks before turning to leave, but the group barely makes it a couple steps before the whining voice halts them, “Not you, _Malum_. I want a word with you. Now.” 

Mabel can hear, just barely, a small, tired sigh escape the assassin, but his soldier stature does not break. He turns and briskly walks to Gideon’s side. And then the two are off, and Mabel can’t help but worry for him. 

**Dipper**

Dipper isn’t surprised Gideon wants to speak with him alone. He’s more surprised the blond waited this long to have ‘a word’ in private. They walk down the main hall in the opposite direction of the garage, climbing a couple flights of stairs before reaching an open balcony. Dipper carefully paces himself to always be a step or two behind Gideon- an acknowledgement to Gideon’s higher status that the man really doesn’t deserve. Dipper watches him dismiss the couple of guards standing watch out here. 

Gideon pauses before turning to look at Dipper, a sneer morphing his face. He gives Dipper the once over, then walks to the railing of the balcony, leaning on it. “It’s been quite a while, hasn’t it, _Dipper Pines_?” The blond glances back at him, cruel humor in his eyes as he acknowledges Dipper’s true identity. And why that must be conflicting with his current assignment. 

Dipper decides to ignore the obvious baiting, however, “Mhmm. Eighteen months, right? You sure have an impressive fort and army. You must fit right in with your minions.” 

A bitter laugh, “Oh please, _I_ am not the _monster_ here, Dipper. If anything, it’s you. I just played by the rules to survive and gain power.” 

“Her blood is on _your_ hands. If you hadn’t turned us in, she wouldn’t have died. We would have been free. Bill didn’t have to know you were aware of what we were planning, you could have stayed quiet.” Dipper snarls, eyes flashing orange for the briefest of moments. 

Gideon growls at the challenge, eyes shifting to teal, his threatening stare blazing and fiery. Dipper looks away and Gideon’s eyes slowly fade back to their normal watery blues. He laughs after a moment, a maniacal burst of laughter, “I think we have equal blame in Paige’s end, don’t you think? I helped bring it about and you helped carry it out, and in the end it really was Bill who did the killing, so you can shut up.” 

The blond slowly comes down from his amusement, wiping the water from his eyes, before locking his gaze with Dipper’s, “But that’s not what I was referring to. Don’t pretend we both don’t know why you and Paige were Bill’s favorite students.” Gideon leans in close to Dipper’s face, a monstrous grin glinting threateningly, “It’s because you two weren’t afraid to do what had to be done if it meant staying together.” Dipper flinches, looking away to the scenery, but Gideon’s crowding into his space, “Remember Seattle? _How you both massacred an entire town of surviving families? Slaughtered them all, including the children. Rained fire onto the part of the city they were occupying_. So no, I’m not the monster, you are.” 

Dipper stands there, frozen, desperately attempting to maintain regulated breathing while simultaneously begging the tears not to fall. Gideon smirks, proud of his results, and turns around to once more face the view, hands clasped behind his back. Dipper’s glad- he couldn’t control the tears, and they fall fast and feel too hot. But he doesn’t wipe them away. 

“As much fun as it is to see you having a mental breakdown over some memory you locked away out of pure shame, that isn’t what I came out here to discuss. I want you to be aware, that if you come between Mabel and I, I have full permission to send word to Bill that you need to be reconditioned. And we both know how fun that is. Well, I don’t, I never did anything to deserve reconditioning, but I’ve heard the screams, so I’m fairly confident it isn’t a joy.” 

“I… I am fully aware that I am not to disrupt your plans. It is the Pines’ duty to look after each other, so it will be their responsibility. But, if you hurt her, you will pay.” Gideon turns, raising an eyebrow at the assassin. Dipper’s face is dark, eyes stormy and glinting with fire and passion, “Because I honestly don’t care about my safety- how do you think I ended up separated from them? As long as Mabel is _safe_ I don’t care what hell I have to live through. So threaten me all you want, you hurt her, you’re _dead_.” 

And this time, it’s Dipper who walks away. Gideon doesn’t try to stop him, a deep frown pulling at his features, his hands clenched into tight fists. His eyes glint dangerously, but he doesn’t move to follow the assassin.

**Paige**

The ancient building is worn and weary, a testament to its age, cracks crawling along the sides of the walls of the exterior. The original founders of the building, whatever and whoever they were, must have enchanted it long before the settlers came and built the town- an enchantment to hide it from the eyes of any average and unknowing human. A human oblivious to the supernatural aspects of life. So the majority of the population. 

Paige glances around the plaza, checking for any other individuals who might be lingering undetected, violet eyes glinting in the afternoon light. It’s dangerous territory. New Mexico is among the states under heavy watch and regulation of demons- most of whom work under Gideon or Bill. Stealth is key on this operation. Once she’s certain she is alone, Paige walks up the entry stairway to the building, pushing open the old stone doors. 

Torches immediately light themselves in the short entry hallway, and Paige coughs, choking on the cloud of dust that was disturbed by the opening door, as she moves towards the main room, though her coughing ceases and her eyes widen almost comically at the sheer size of the building’s interior. The library has three separate stories, all of which have bookshelves towering up five meters or so. The flickering light from the torches that warms the walls is diluted by the crisper light shining through the sunroof above. 

She spends hours filtering through the thousands of books, searching diligently for the old book that should hold more information on the weapon the Pines are building. The sun has long since set when Paige finally spots it on the first floor- a thick leather bound book with ancient runes carved into the spine. Nimble fingers pull it from the shelf, curious eyes flickering from page to page as she slowly makes her way to a wooden desk. Paige sits on a cushioned chair, murmuring a spell to quickly locate the information she needs from among the hundreds of pages. 

As though a strong gust of wind blew past, the pages immediately begin flipping to a page a little ways beyond the middle of the book. Paige’s brows furrow as she begins to translate the ancient runes and diagrams onto a small pocket notebook, scribbling furiously away into the night. 

It’s only after the sun has risen and climbed high into the sky the next day that she finishes, a worried frown tugging at her lips. The news of the missing crystal had initially been slightly worrying, but Paige had been so certain it wouldn’t make that much of a difference. She had been wrong. The book, which gives an extensive knowledge of different magical weapons, describes how five crystals maintains a near perfect balance of power and allows the crystals to revive their power among themselves. 

But they only have four now. 

Paige tucks the book under her jacket, leaving the library at a brisk pace before teleporting away to find the Pines. She materializes in the RV, where the entire family is currently setting up some sleeping arrangement on the floor and seats and such. Luckily, Dipper appears to be elsewhere. The family jumps slightly as her feet softly touch the floor, and she presses a finger to her lips. Paige murmurs a muffling enchantment so no one outside the RV can overhear their conversation. 

Stanford immediately begins bombarding her with questions, “Paige? What are you doing here? You do realize we are in Gleeful’s fortress, right? What if someone had seen you? What if he senses you and your magic? What if-” 

Holding up a hand, Paige cuts the scientist’s worried rambling off, and pulls out her book, “I have run across a major… _issue_ in our plan. One that may change your minds about assisting me.” 

Stanley moves towards her, a worried scowl spreading more wrinkles across his face, “What’s happened?” 

She sighs heavily, looking around at the family, “The last time we met to discuss our plans, you told me one of the crystals had gone missing. Originally, I believed that the weapon would be fully functional with only four crystals, which it is,” she adds hurriedly upon their fearful expressions, “However, it will result in a definite limit on our capabilities and result in a much more threatening outcome if you chose to follow through.” 

Surprisingly, it’s Mabel who voices the question, “So what’s changed then?” 

“The weapon can still be built and be functional with four crystals. However, it will result in the weapon only having enough power to fire a single time.” 

The statement is met with stunned silence and frozen features. Nobody really knows how to react to this news. Paige doesn’t blame them. If they were to miss that shot… well, there would be no hope of surviving Bill’s wrath. 

“Will that single shot be enough to take Bill out?” Stanford asks thoughtfully. 

“Yes, that shot will have more than enough power to do the job. But you would not be able to miss or make any mistakes in the execution of the plan.” 

“That’s fine. All of us are trained well enough with guns that we shouldn’t have a problem.” Stanford says, confidence in his voice. Paige admires his courage, as she wouldn’t be so certain if she were in his place. 

Paige straightens up, tucking the book away once more, “Alrighty then. I will be off, don’t want Gideon to discover me. That wouldn’t end well.” She turns, moving to leave, but glances back at them once more, a determined scowl tugging at her features, “Remember, you will have _one_ shot. I don’t care what circumstances there are on the day of the weapon’s use, if you see a shot, you _will_ take it.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you enjoyed! 
> 
> please comment your thoughts and theories, I love reading them and enjoy hearing what you have to say, it's always a blast :)
> 
> Also I'm probably going to be going back an editing a bunch of chapters to patch up some plot holes and also to edit some major... grossness 
> 
> ( also comment all your hatred for Gideon >:D it's the best )
> 
> ALSO ALSO ALSO would you guys mind if I wrote other fics during this? I wouldn't be started another series, but like oneshots and stuff???


	16. The Mountain Pass (Part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Huffing, Mabel looks away from the two, hoping to distract herself, but freezes, eyes widening almost comically. At the back of the group, a shy grin tugging at his lips, obviously listening to the pair in front of him, is... **Dipper**. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow it has been too long.  
> I'm sorry I've been away so long; I started school on August 29th, so life has been incredibly hectic for me since then. Please remember that I am in all honors classes, seven total classes in a day, starting at 7:00am, and I get a ton of homework, so as much as I would love to be updating more, I don't have a ton of time to focus on writing. Sadly, the fic is not my first priority- that's school, my mental health, and my friends' mental health, so the fic does get bumped down a bit, but there isn't anything I can really do about that. 
> 
> Anyway, I think you guys will really like this chapter, it has a wonderful mixture of excitement, drama, fighting, and ANGSST. yup. I live off of angst tbh. 
> 
> Also, huge shoutout to LuminereLucifer, my new editor, please send them some love

**_I never meant for this to happen. Never wanted it to happen. I- I am so, so sorry._ **

**Dipper**

Dipper knows he’s being unfair in every sense of the word. He’s been avoiding Mabel for days, slinking away to sit in solitude with only the voice for company. So really, it shouldn’t bother him that her attention is no longer concentrated on him. But it does. Dipper hates how he can no longer turn to share a quiet and quick-worded joke with her- how when he does, the spot next to him is cold and very empty. He hates how there’s no one to drag him out of his thoughts with kind words and bubbly laughter and bright smiles. He hates this dull but constant ache of loneliness that settles over him, one that drowns you so completely and utterly that you wonder if you will ever be free.

But he doesn’t protest, like Stan, Wendy, and Soos do, when Mabel sets off in a clean white blouse tucked into a flowing wine red skirt, having just briefly summarized her plans to spend the remaining daytime with Gideon before they pack up and complete their trip by returning to Oregon. She had been missing most of the early morning, Stan had explained to the curious assassin, and when Mabel did return to the RV, she was determined to have this meeting with Gideon, despite her clear dislike for the blond. 

And Dipper had tried to talk to her, tried to coax a motive out of her, but Mabel’s gaze was cold and guarded, and Dipper had let it drop. Now, Dipper sits on the roof of the RV, leaning back on the palms of his hands and swinging his feet over the side of the RV in a childlike manner. His eyebrows are puckered, fingers tapping his leg without rhythm. 

What he can’t decipher is _why_ Mabel’s opinion of how trustworthy Gideon is has changed so quickly. He hasn’t displayed any traits or actions that would indicate some change into a better and more kind person- quite the opposite, for Dipper, really- but she still determinedly went to spend an afternoon in his company. Dipper knows the only thing Gideon could have done was offer something that Mabel desperately wants- and that’s what truly worries the assassin. There are so many possibilities in the way of information, but the likelihood is it will probably be about Dipper or his assassin identity, Malum. Dipper isn’t sure which is worse. 

Eventually, the voice decides it’s had enough of Dipper’s moping, because it starts nagging him, _Oh come on, stop worrying so much. Gideon knows better than to fiddle with Bill’s plans, and that includes you having a secret identity, so it’s not like he can do anything to reveal who you really are._

“I know, but…” Dipper sighs, sliding off the RV and landing with a soft thud, “What if… what if he mentions something that makes her hate me? I- I don’t have a clean slate, I’ve done too much and there are so many things he could say.” 

The voice remains silent for a couple minutes, seeming to think over Dipper’s train of thought. Dipper, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans, walks out of the garage and enters the seemingly endless hallways of the fortress. He doesn’t really have any specific direction or aim in his wanderings, he just feels fidgety and needs to move around, ‘get the blood flowing’ as they say. 

The voice startles Dipper from his thoughts, (how that is possible when the voice is _inside_ his head, he isn’t really sure) _You have a developed relationship with the girl, it would take some thorough convincing to turn her against you. My guess is he’s going to try and be really smooth and flirt with her or something. Talking about you would be a major cockblock, cause honestly either identity’s story is downright sad._

Against his will, Dipper smiles softly at the last comment. He exhales deeply, allowing his eyes to flutter shut and Dipper takes the moment to relax. Mabel will be fine. Gideon won’t do anything to hurt her now, not when the whole family is here and it would put Bill’s plans in jeopardy if he angers the Pines. 

“Thanks, I… I needed to hear that. Lose myself in my thoughts sometimes…” Dipper releases a small huff of amusement, the tension draining from his shoulders. He draws to a stop beside an empty pedestal and sits on it, leaning back against the wall, feeling a wave of drowsiness wash over him. After his unpleasant chat with Gideon, Dipper didn’t get any sleep last night, which normally isn’t too much of an issue, but during the events of the trip, his sleep schedule slowly became more screwed up with each day. Some days he forgot to sleep past a thirty minute nap and others he slept for twelve hours straight. And now, a little after midday, Dipper’s feeling the consequences of it all hit him like a train. So he isn’t too surprised when his eyelids grow heavy, his posture slouching slightly. It only takes a couple minutes for Dipper to fall asleep. 

  


The nap is short, forty minutes at most, but Dipper feels refreshed and slightly more functional than before. Sliding off the pedestal, Dipper stretches quickly, cracking his neck and back. He decides to continue his stroll about the fortress, maybe find some useful information about Gideon’s various plans. 

Unsurprisingly, any rooms that could possibly contain anything remotely interesting are watched carefully by guards. So Dipper keeps wandering, deciding to instead check on Mabel. She hasn’t been gone _that_ long but still, this is _Gideon_ she’s with. 

Dipper doesn’t know what he should expect. More than likely, the voice is right and Gideon just wants to flirt and be the creep he usually is. But Dipper feels unsettled and the thought of everything that could go wrong keeps nagging and teasing at his brain. He doesn’t plan on interrupting them- Dipper decides that when he does find them, he’ll stay in the shadows, make sure Mabel is okay, and leave. It will provide enough reassurance for him to be able to direct his attention elsewhere and then maybe he can go get a nice, long nap. And skip Gideon’s dinner- he could honestly not care less about seeing the blond and Dipper is certain the reverse holds true as well. 

And then suddenly he’s running into a wall- or he isn’t. Dipper frowns, blinking up in surprise at the invisible thing blocking his path. Hesitantly, he holds a hand out, fingers just grazing the surface of the ‘wall’. He’s surprised by the bright turquoise pulses that radiate out from the point of contact and travel down the stretch of the barrier before eventually fading. A curious frown puckers his eyebrows as Dipper studies the barrier, which is buzzing angrily at every touch. He doesn’t understand why Gideon would drain magic in creating a barrier to block them instead of just positioning some guards here. 

He checks the next hallway, and the next, and they all have this same barrier- which Dipper assumes actually has an area and shape rather than just sealing one hallway- and each time he runs into it, it’s roughly the same distance down the hallway. He’s stood before the fourth barrier, arms crossed and fingers drumming along his arms, lost in thought. 

It can’t be a project- Gideon would put that in one enclosed room to ensure better protection and make it easier to keep track of. Dipper supposes it could be his personal section of the fortress, but the area enclosed has no special features or perks that would influence Gideon to choose that as his living space. And this seems like more of a temporary blockade, not permanent. So what… Dipper’s eyes widen upon realization, horror and fear darkening the maple irises. 

Stumbling back, Dipper turns and flees back down his original pathway, using magic to track the magic signatures of the Pines. He sprints all the way back, bursting into the garage unceremoniously, breathing harsh and quick. The family looks up in surprise, eyebrows raised in question at his panicked demeanor. 

He stumbles over, choosing to approach Stanley, as he remains one of the friendlier members of the family in regards to the assassin. Dipper takes a minute to catch his breath before hurriedly saying, “It was a mistake. We shouldn’t have trusted Gideon with Mabel.” They tense, watching Dipper with a newfound interest. Stan gives a hand-rolling gesture, wanting him to continue, to explain. “Gideon, he… he made a magical border around the area he and Mabel entered. We have no way of reaching her.” 

**Mabel**

Mabel will admit, she did dress up a little for the lunch with Gideon. When she had run into the blond this morning, Mabel had tried to speed up and ditch him, but he was insistent. He had called out to her and ran up to her side, a predatory grin gleaming down at her. She hadn’t planned to agree to any lunch or any anything, mostly tuning out everything he said.

And then Gideon changed tactics, “Oh come now, Mabel darlin’, don’t be like that. I just want to talk and catch up- so much time has passed since our last meetin’ after all- and maybe eat some lunch. It would be a nice, pleasant afternoon. And you wouldn’t have to be bothered by those hovering mother hen uncles you have.” He turns, sharp gaze focusing on her, “This is your chance to have fun, and probably for the first time in seven years, without having to feel like you’re under constant watch. What do you say?” Gideon holds out a hand, bowing slightly, a mischievous sparkle in his watery baby blues. 

Mabel rolls her eyes, turning and walking away, only slowing to call over her shoulder, “No thanks! I would rather throw myself in front of the RV and be slowly crushed to death!” The sight of his annoyed frown, fists clenched at his sides, makes Mabel grin, murmuring to herself, “You shiny, blue, sequined turd, honestly.” 

Of course, when dealing with Gideon Gleeful, you can’t just simply walk away and expect to have the last word, much to Mabel’s disappointment. She almost makes it out of the corridor, when the snide voice calls out, “I guess you don’t want to know what happened to Dipper? Or any of Malum’s secrets? Oh well, I guess I’ll just see you at dinner.” 

The brunette freezes in place, eyes widening and body freezing in shock as though a bucket of ice water were dumped over her head. She stands there shocked, the statement running on loop through her head, only moving at the sound of Gideon leaving. Mabel whirls around, sprinting back after him, “Wait!” 

Lunging forward, Mabel yanks on the shiny sleeve cuff of his teal suit. He turns, one eyebrow raised in a mock of curiosity. Mabel swallows nervously, not trusting the flinty glint in his eyes, but she follows through anyway, the possible prize too great to be sacrificed. Mabel straightens up, crossing her arms and looking Gideon in the eye, asking in a firm voice, “You have information on my brother? On Dipper?” 

He shrugs in a nonchalant sort of way, like it’s no big deal, “I suppose… but that hardly matters- the stories are to lengthy to tell in a quick passing- but alas, I’ll be spending my lunch alone…” 

Refraining from punching Gideon in the face, Mabel forces her lips into a polite smile, “So I just have to have lunch with you and then you’ll tell me about Dipper?” 

The triumphant grin Gideon sports makes Mabel want to hurl all over his sparkly suit, “Why of course, my dear.” He bows once more, this time grabbing her hand to plant a kiss on her knuckles. Mabel will be washing that hand with boiling water later. “It’s a date.” 

  


And so, Mabel now briskly walks down corridor after corridor, skirting away from any roaming demons and guards, to return to their place of meeting earlier this morning. Gideon’s already waiting for her, standing tall with his chubby hands clasped behind his back. Mabel nearly snorts at the new suit- a deep royal blue in color with the collar and cuffs studded in dazzling rhinestones. Honestly, the man has no chill whatsoever. 

Upon noticing her approach, Gideon puffs out his chest, eyes sparkling as he grins. “My, my, don’t you look as lovely as a ripe peach?” He extends his arm to her, so Mabel links hers through his and they set off, “I think you’ll quite enjoy the lunch, my dear, the entire course is made of different breakfast foods. Pancakes, waffles, and so on.” 

And it is… nice. A long table laden with various breakfast foods has been set out, a crisp white table cloth tied at the table corners. Despite her dislike for Gideon, Mabel is excited; there are multiple types of waffles- including strawberry, blueberry, and chocolate, with a tub of vanilla ice cream to accompany them- pancakes, bacon, sausages, and eggs prepared in practically every way. Gideon grabs a china plate for himself and Mabel, handing one to her, and then begins piling food onto his plate. Mabel, who’s currently tempted to drool, follows suit, grabbing strawberry pancakes with a scoop of ice cream, sausage, and a sunny side up egg to start the meal. 

Another smaller table for two is set by a large circular window, warm light streaming in and lighting the room. Mabel sits across from Gideon, watching him pour a glass of carbonated raspberry lemonade for them each. 

The meal begins with pleasant conversation, Gideon asking about the various things she’s been up to the last seven years, what her magic type is, and what it is like having a set of twin uncles. Mabel almost forgets the reason for her dislike for him- he’s being charming and polite and not at all creepy or pervy. 

But she doesn’t forget why she agreed to this lunch. After the sixth question, about an hour and a half after their lunch began, Mabel cuts him off with a smile, “Alrighty, I think I’ve answered enough of your questions. Now it’s your turn. What happened to Dipper?” 

Gideon looks a little disappointed, but smirks nonetheless, “Ah yes, dear Dipper Pines. It isn’t a happy story, dollface, and I’m not certain you’re quite prepared to hear it.” 

Hardening her gaze into the flinty look she’s seen Ford wear so many times, Mabel grits out, “I played by your rules. I dressed up nicely. I came to your lunch and I humored you for good measure. Now, what happened to my brother?” 

And in an instant, the cocky asshate persona is gone. He sighs heavily, much to Mabel’s surprise, staring down at his lap where his hands are folded. Mabel studies him, watching how he opens and closes his mouth a couple times, as though debating what to say. A couple minutes of silence go by before he finally looks back up at her, face pinched and strained. 

“I can’t tell you,” Gideon begins, cutting Mabel’s protests off by continuing, “You would never believe me, but I _can_ show you.” The blond reaches over the table, grabbing one of her hands. 

  


In a blink, Mabel’s surroundings have changed. She spins around, mouth open to ask Gideon where they are, but the blond is nowhere to be seen, the space around her only filled with the lonely whisper of wind. Mabel studies her surroundings; she’s in a forest, up near the edge of a cliff. The sky is a dark and bruised overcast, a light drizzle freckling her cheeks and hair, but otherwise unnoticeable. Mabel supposes that this must be a memory- she can’t feel the chill that must hang in the air or the breeze that otherwise would tickle her cheeks.

Just as Mabel begins to wonder why Gideon sent her here, there’s a snap of twigs and the crunch of leaves behind her. Mabel turns, curious, but freezes at the sight of the approaching group. Bill is in the front, leading the small party along, his hands cupping the back of his head and a lazy grin on his face. There’s two demons along with him, but Mabel’s more interested in the four people trailing along. 

Gideon doesn’t look much different, a couple years younger but still as much of a douche then as he is now. He’s wearing one of his signature glittering teal suits, and how he wears those with such pride, Mabel will never be certain. 

A little more shockingly, Mabel recognizes Malum. He’s wearing a similar assassin getup like he does now, mask and all, but in comparison to Gideon, Malum looks like a completely different person. He’s relaxed, shoulders lazy and not stiff as stone. His posture is also less of a rigid soldier’s and more fluid like a teenager’s should be. But the biggest difference, in Mabel’s opinion, is in his face. Malum’s grinning, a bubbling laugh bursting from his lips every minute or so. His eyes sparkle and dance with life, a twinkle of mischief lighting up that normally are so closed off. 

Mabel assumes it’s because of the girl at his side. She’s a bit shorter, by about four or five inches, but she stands out because her personality and confidence is so bright, it might as well have been a sunny day. She grins at him, brushing a strand of dark red hair out of her face. Malum bursts into another fit of laughter at something she whispers. This… this must be the roommate. The one Malum is so very fond of. Mabel swallows, fists clenching at her sides. She has no right to be upset, or jealous, but she doesn’t like it. Mabel can’t make him laugh like that. Or smile that brightly. 

Huffing, Mabel looks away from the two, hoping to distract herself, but freezes, eyes widening almost comically. At the back of the group, a shy grin tugging at his lips, obviously listening to the pair in front of him, is... _Dipper_. He looks tired, weary, but otherwise healthy and fine. He’s taller than Mabel, about the height of Malum actually. He’s wearing a cozy cream colored sweater, gray skinny jeans, and white converse. _At least he developed a fashion sense, thank the lord of muffins_ , Mabel snorts. 

Bill stops at the cliffside, inhaling deeply, gaze sharp on the land below. Nobody in the group pays it much mind, until Bill says loudly in a drawling tone, “Well what do we have here?” 

Rather hesitantly, the students step up, standing a little ways behind Bill. Dipper is the one who responds, voice uncertain, “Um… A human settlement?” 

Mabel narrows her eyes at the city in the distance, surprised to see Dipper’s right. Very faintly, warm orange and yellow light shines out from windows of houses, all of which are clustered in a general area. It’s a fairly large settlement, maybe a hundred or so houses lit up in the dreary day. Large for a nonmagic settlement, anyway. Very rarely did Mabel and her family stumble across settlements like these, and when they did, they didn’t interact. The Pines have a tendency for attracting trouble, and they didn’t want others to suffer for it. 

“Very good, Pinetree.” Bill says, eyes suspiciously bright as he bounces slightly on his feet, hands clasped behind his back, “A human settlement, quite a sight these days.” They nod, staring down at the city in wonder. Bill glances back at his minions, “Kill them.” 

The demons nod, starting forward, despite the students’ protest- excluding Gideon, of course, who just stands to the side with a maniacal gleam in his eyes. Mabel frowns in worry as Dipper rushes forward, hands outstretched, “Wait! C’mon, they don’t need to die!” 

Bill studies Dipper, an amused expression present on his face, “Hmm. Well, I disagree, they really do.” 

“No they don’t! What reason is there for you to kill them?” Dipper asks, “And it has to be logical, nothing about, ‘They’re there, so why not’.” 

Snorting, Bill turns back to view the city, arms crossed, “Seattle has many valuable resources, I really can’t afford to have these pests in the way.” 

Dipper’s eyes are wide, pleading. Mabel glances at Malum, whose arms are crossed and jaw set, his face unreadable, “Bill, please, there are plenty of resource hotspots all over the country- hell, the world, even. Just let them go.” 

The demon, taps his chin almost thoughtfully, “Hmm. No. Just kill them already.” 

Frustration and anger evident on his face, Dipper jumps down the cliff, using magic to cushion his fall. Mabel watches him run toward the settlement, chewing on her fingernails worriedly. Bill makes no comment toward the boy’s choice of actions, but his lips curl in a disgusted frown. 

The demons make to follow, but Malum and the girl move to block them. Bill growls, obviously angry with the increasing number of disobedient students, but the girl interrupts him before he can go off on a tangent, “Let us do it. Malum and I, that is.” 

Everyone freezes. Mabel can feel her blood run cold, and a heavy feeling of dread weighs her on shoulders. _What?_ Bill studies the two carefully, a wicked and delighted grin revealing too sharp teeth. 

The yellow cloaked dream demon claps his hands together, rubbing them together in delight, “Oh, really? Well this should be exciting,” He nods at the two, who bow their heads in respect in return, “Go ahead, oh, and one more thing.” His eyes bleed red, voice booming, “Pinetree made his choice. Now go.” 

Malum and the girl nod, turning and leaping off the cliff, though they use their magic to fly over to the city. Mabel wishes the tears in her eyes were thick enough to stop her from seeing everything. 

  


Mabel gasps, eyes flying open and darting around. She’s back in the sunlight room of brunch with Gideon. His expression is one of pity. Slowly, as though to not spook her, Gideon withdraws his hand, returning it to his lap. He watches her in silence for a couple minutes, observing the steady stream of tears racing down her cheeks. 

Her cheeks feel sore from the number of times she wiped her tears away when Mabel finally stops crying. Still hiccuping and sniffling, Mabel doesn’t bother trying to fight the glass of lemonade Gideon pushes toward her. She stares at the bubbles, the scenes of everything she just witnessed racing through her head and becoming jumbled and confused. 

“I assume you had no idea that Malum…” Gideon doesn’t finish the thought, watching her intently as Mabel shakes her head, “Hmm. I guess it explains why you two were so friendly with each other. You didn’t know.” 

Mabel doesn’t want to be at the lunch anymore. She doesn’t know what she wants. Gideon starts talking again, voice low and calming, “Let’s go for a walk, alright?” Mabel nods, accepting his hand, figuring she’s still in a state of shock too large to be successful at rising from her seat. The blond leads her along, still speaking in that low voice. It’s calming. “It’s a much more relaxing life here, you know. We deal with shipments and plans for Bill. None of this dangerous adventuring. That, and the demons would never dare to attack us here.” 

Mabel blinks sluggishly, humming thoughtfully. _That would be nice,_ she thinks, _to be able to relax. Not having to worry about attacks and if you’re going to make it through the night_. Mabel feet stutter in movement, a small frown pulling at the corners of her lips. Where had that come from? 

Gideon doesn’t seem to notice her fumble, gazing off somewhere in the distance, “I think you would like it here, Mabel. You would be free to do whatever you please. And you wouldn’t have to worry about nagging uncles.” He chuckles, glancing down at her. 

The thought of freedom sends Mabel’s mind reeling, unbalancing the little thought process she’s been maintaining. No pestering uncles. No one to order her around. It would be… wonderful. Mabel almost smiles, but she feels too dazed and doesn’t really think she can manage any self-made decisions or actions right now. 

The pair slow to a stop in front of another large window, the sunlight warm and welcoming. Mabel blinks down at the glass of lemonade Gideon’s pushing into her hands- why did he bring lemonade? She takes it, movements still sluggish, oddly so. Mabel’s confused. Why can’t she pull her hand away from Gideon’s? She wants to, but her body is refusing to carry the action out. 

The glass is raised to her lips, the iced beverage cool to the touch, when Mabel freezes. Why does _any_ of this sound like a good idea? Leaving her _family_ to stay here with _Gideon_? Sure, Mabel’s incredibly emotional right now, but there is no way she’s emotional enough to be this stupid. Slowly, she draws the drink away, studying it with a puckered brow. 

Gideon glances down at her, watery blue eyes confused and concerned, “Mabel? What’s wrong?” 

_How could she be this stupid?_

Eyes dancing with angry flames, Mabel lets the glass fall to the floor, shattering and spilling lemonade on her shoes. Very slowly, as to not shake in anger, Mabel raises her gaze to glare at the blond. “You _drugged_ me?” 

The shock that briefly plays across his face is quickly replaced by a more exasperated look, “Oh for the- Mabel, look. It was for the better. Your family is full of _morons_ and you have no idea what they’re up against. You think leaving here is the safe option? I can tell you for certain, it isn’t! Especially not with that monster running around with y’all!” His eyes are blazing, hands gesturing widely as he desperately tries to convince her that he’s the good guy. “I just wanted to make the decision easier for you, alright? I know it will be tough to leave your family, but you’ll be happier here.” 

She stares down at the chubby hand clamped around her wrist. _Stupid_. “Don’t touch me!” Mabel growls, yanking her arm away and stumbling back. 

His face hardens, a wicked gleam in his eyes as he chuckles darkly, “What can you do? I know your magic type. It’s friendly, not at all offensive in any way, shape, or form. There’s literally no way for you to successfully fight back, Mabel, so don’t waste your strength.” Gideon waves a hand, a new glass of lemonade appearing in his hand. Funny, Mabel doesn’t feel like drinking anymore, actually feels a little closer to vomiting if she’s being honest, “Now, c’mon. Don’t make me force this down your throat.” 

Backing away quickly, Mabel’s brain is desperately thinking of a way out of this. _Her magic_. Gideon’s right- the only magic Mabel ever bothered learning was kind and loving. But Malum showed her that magic can be a coin with two separate faces, two separate sides. A double edged sword.

A shadow falls across her vision, and Mabel blinks up at Gideon, who towers over her. His expression is stormy, but there’s an excited twinkle in his eyes. He’s clutching her wrist again, painfully tight, and pulls her close so that they stand chest to chest. 

Mabel can feel the burning sensation of a deep blush on her cheeks, and Gideon’s disgusting smirk only confirms her suspicions. She’s trying to struggle, but Gideon is strangely muscular, making her efforts near useless. 

Gideon’s smirk has only grown and he says, “Aww, don’t be like that, dollface. Now, open up, or this will become so much less fun for you and so much _more_ fun for me.” 

Forcing herself to go still, Mabel concentrates. She thinks back to that day in the convenience store, when she and Malum had gone to get CDs. She thought about their conversation- 

_“How would you use a negative thing for something positive?”_

_“I can manipulate negative emotions, I can make a person feel deadly amounts of fear or hatred- but at the same time I can completely eliminate those feelings in a person, which generally boosts more positive emotions… So I guess, in a way, our magic is much more similar than we first thought.”_

Gritting her teeth, Mabel moves to rest her free hand against Gideon’s chest. She thinks of all the emotions she’s so connected with through her magic. The happiness of finding new friends like Candy and Grenda. The surges of compassion when her family rush to her aid. The hope Malum has sparked in her over the last couple of weeks. The love she and Dipper shared so long ago- the very love that drove him to make the ultimate sacrifice for _her_. 

Tears roll down her cheeks as Mabel’s eyes burst to life, a warm magenta glowing in her irises. “ _No._ ” And then, using her magic, she reaches out to Gideon and searches. She hunts down all the positive feelings she just focused on, all the warm and bubbly ones. And then she _pulls_. 

Gideon stiffens underneath her hands, but she doesn’t stop. “You don’t _deserve_ these. Monsters like you don’t deserve _happiness_.” 

At the sound of shattering glass, lemonade spilling once again, Mabel looks up, glowing eyes meeting Gideon’s. He stumbles away, breathing labored, one hand clawing desperately at his chest. She makes no move to follow and doesn’t notice the shadows growing in length and the warmth in the room evaporating. The torches blow out as though a strong gust of wind barreled down the hallway, and the only source of light in the room becomes the angry magenta irises.

“I am tired of being treated like a child. I can decide what’s best for me- everyone needs to stop protecting me and accept the fact that I am an adult. I am capable of deciding what’s best for me. So you can _fuck off_.” 

Mabel watches Gideon collapse to the floor, apparently having fainted from the overload of negative emotions. Lowering her hands to her sides, Mabel stares at the blond for a moment, anger and pain rolling off her in waves. Taking a deep breath, Mabel turns, making her way back through the halls to find her family. 

**Dipper**

The Pines are pacing outside the barrier, agitated and worried for Mabel. Stanford stands to the side, a hand on his chin, trying to calculate some way through or around the barrier to Mabel. Dipper sits on the floor, trying to control his breathing. He _can’t_ lose her. No. Not after everything. 

And then, rather suddenly, she’s back and walking through the barrier like it doesn’t exist. She looks exhausted, annoyed, and closed off. The family immediately rushes forward, Dipper notes with a rush of gratitude. At least she’s had them for these seven years. Stan and Ford immediately begin checking over her, fretting over every little scratch and scrape- not to mention the suspicious bruise forming around her wrist. 

Dipper waits, knowing that family always comes first and to give them all the time it takes to relax and register that Mabel is safe. He tries to catch her eye, but Mabel doesn’t look over at him, and the one time she does it’s fleeting, barely there before her eyes dart back to Soos. 

Mabel dismisses their worried interrogations with a wave of her hand and a bubbly laugh, “I’m fine. Gideon just wanted to talk, and we talked. Smiles all around. I told you guys, I can take care of myself. So let’s go already.” 

It’s a lie. Not that the Pines can tell, as their shoulders easily relax and they focus on packing everything so they can leave, but Dipper can. Mabel’s uneasy and obviously upset. He waits until the family is all gone before approaching her, cautiously. 

“I’m not sure you could tell, but you had everyone really worried.” Dipper jokes, smiling sliding off his face at Mabel’s blank, cold look. 

She watches him for a minute or two, looking everywhere but his eyes, gaze dead and emotionless. “I know what you did.” He frowns, but he doesn’t get the chance to question her, “In Seattle.” 

Dipper’s stomach drops, and his eyes widen. “What?” he asks, throat tight and voice strangled. 

Mabel’s gaze finally meets his own, and he was wrong, it isn’t dead. It’s angry, bitter, and sorrowful. Her voice is ground out, and Dipper realizes she’s trying very hard not to make a scene, that if she could, she would probably stab him right now. “In Seattle. You… you killed my brother. I know.” 

“W-what? Mabel, I nev-” 

“Oh, shut up, will you?” Mabel snaps, voice venomous, and Dipper flinches. _No_. “Stop acting like you’re some sort of victim, okay? I know what you did- I _watched_ you and that stupid redhead. You both just… just set an entire settlement of peaceful, nonmagic people on fire. It was horrifying- you both just rained fire down on them, and they were _screaming and begging for help_. And,” The brunette inhales a shuddering breath, quickly wiping away the wetness from her eyes, “And my brother- my Dipper- was down there, desperately trying to shield and protect them. And you- neither of you even blinked.” 

He stares at her, a sudden understanding blowing away the clouds of confusion in his mind. “Wait, Mabel, I-” 

But he doesn’t get to finish his defence. Mabel shoves past him, heading in a beeline for the RV, not even glancing back. He swallows thickly, trying to control the tears collecting in his eyes and the heavy throb of his heart. Dipper doesn’t try to stop her.

Glancing back at the archway, Dipper meets the gaze of Gideon. The blond is angry, eyes fiery, but he doesn’t protest to their sudden plans for departure. Staring at Dipper, a smirk spreads across Gideon’s face, and then he turns and wanders back down the hall. 

Dipper stares after him. Once again, because of Gideon, Dipper is alone. Once again, he has nowhere to turn. And Dipper has once again, for the third time in his life, lost everything he holds dear and is left to try and pick up the pieces. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *holds up shield* love me plz
> 
> Anyway, guys hope you enjoyed this long overdue chapter, at least it was on the lengthier side *yay?*  
> Also this chapter has badass mabel bcuz HECK YES and second a reader actually pointed out there wasn't any badass mabel and i was like hmm you're right let's change that bro. SO BAM MABEL READY TO KICK BUTTTT  
> In case you were unaware, the finale is closing in and will be here to tear you apart soon, maybe in two or three chapters? Idk yet, but it's comin'. 
> 
> Again, theories are always welcomed and I love reading them, they're always super interesting, I love hearing from you guys. Fanart is also super chill, feel free to message me on my tumblr if you have any questions. And also like tag or link it to me, cuz I would love to see it.
> 
> Also, I drew a small little pic of 14 year old Paige ;D my daughter is my problematic fave.  
> http://bukubird.deviantart.com/art/Paige-Roscommon-637518988  
> http://bukubird.deviantart.com/art/Paige-637738007?ga_submit_new=10%253A1475383808
> 
> As a side note, I will be drawing some art for me fic, and I'll leave links to them if you guys want to continue seeing them. HOWEVER i don't want my pics to influence how you envision characters? Basically, this is my fanart for my fic (don't judge i love my bbies). 
> 
> PS. I'm also thinking of doing a cool cover pic for the fic, so the finale might be delayed because I'll probably add the pic to it. If any of you guys have any ideas for a cover picture, feel free to share, I already have an idea of what I want to do, but suggestions are always welcome.


	17. So I Bare My Skin and Count My Sins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Closing his eyes, Dipper sits back, absorbing the peaceful surroundings. The crystal has definitely strengthened his magic, Dipper decides. He can feel the life thrumming through the roots of the trees underneath him and the water rushing past the rock. It’s a nice change, to be so aware of the positive things, of life and energy itself, rather than the dark and more twisted side of magic._
> 
>  
> 
> _Of course, because his magic also loves to ruin Dipper’s life, it doesn’t alert him to the fact that someone is approaching him. Dipper doesn’t screech like a child and jump so violently that he nearly falls into the stream. He doesn’t._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **SUPER IMPORTANT/EXCITING NOTE AT THE END OF THE CHAPTER, 10/10 WOULD RECOMMEND.**
> 
> Anyway, hey guys! I updated sooner than last time, which is a huge accomplishment that includes procrastinating on big projects (kmn). You're welcome :D  
> This chapter is the buildup/final constipation before the finale is releasseeed. That's right my children. Be prepared for tears.
> 
> (also shoutout to @mine.craftfan_2007 on instagram for being awesome and asking about the fic ;D you're amazing)

_**The figure stands, swaying slightly, for a couple moments, a distant cackling laughter breaking the silence, and then they crumple to the floor.** _

**Mabel**

The RV rumbles distantly underneath her back, her chocolate curls spread around her head like mane. Mabel’s eyes are distant and she blinks slowly. She feels like a frayed nerve. Or a hangnail. Exposed, vulnerable. Every time a wave of magic washes over her, even when the source is one of her family members, Mabel slips into a panic. Magic has always provided a sense of security for Mabel, like a warm, cozy duvet on a chilling winter night, but now she feels hyperaware of its presence. It’s suffocating and claustrophobic, like the curse of humidity in the month of August. It’s a constant shock of static, rushing across her body and leaving her with tingling skin and twitchy fingers. 

Mabel can only assume the cause of her sudden hyperawareness is the spell she used against Gideon. It must have unlocked something within her. She had never used magic in a harmful way before that. When Stanford had decided to begin training the family in the ways of magic, Mabel had sworn to use it to benefit those around her: to heal, to provide a sense of protection and love in a dark and cold world. Mabel supposes, looking back on it, that was a naive decision. 

“Mabel, sweetie, are you feeling alright?” Stan calls back to her from his seat at Ford’s side. Mabel glances up at him, noting the way his forehead crinkles as his eyebrows scrunch up in worry and the glistening concern in his eyes. 

Head falling back to the floor with a dull thud, Mabel’s eyes slip close. She breathes in, exhaling through her nose and says, “I’m fine, Grunkle Stan. Just tired.” 

A minute goes by with no response and Mabel assumes Stan isn’t going to press further, but then there’s the scuff of heavy footsteps walking toward her. The brunette makes no comment as Stan moves to lie down beside her, grunting while moving to kneel. 

“So you going to tell me what’s actually wrong?” Stan says after a heartbeat, growly voice soft and hushed, as to ensure Ford doesn’t overhear. Mabel can feel his worried gaze on her face, but refuses to acknowledge it. 

“Nothing’s wrong. I’m tired. This entire trip has been exhausting, and Gideon was especially draining.” 

Stan sighs heavily, bringing a hand to rub at his eyes. “Mabel, look… I don’t know what happened in the hours you were gone, but you haven’t been happy or content since you came back.” Mabel expects him to continue pressing, but Stan finishes his thought there. They stay in relative silence for a couple minutes. “Gideon didn’t try anything… did he?” Stan asks, voice hesitant, but filled with sudden fear.

She snorts, rolling her eyes, “No, it isn’t anything like that. Or at least, that’s not what’s bugging me, anyway.” 

There’s a sudden movement to her left, Stan turning his head to stare at her. “What did he do?” He growls, hazel irises blazing with rage. 

Waving her hand at him, Mabel attempts to reassure her uncle, “Hey, it’s fine, I kicked his ass for it and I’m not hurt or anything.” Stan doesn’t look convinced, eyes scanning over her form, desperately searching for any bruise or scrape that would say otherwise. 

Once he seems satisfied that Mabel’s words are truth, Stan flops back down to the floor, shifting around to get comfortable, “But you are upset about something, you said so yourself,” Mabel huffs in annoyance, but Stan continues anyway, “I get it if you don’t want to talk about it, but it… it wouldn’t have anything to do with returning to Gravity Falls, would it?” 

Mabel supposes this is a moment of truth. She can reveal what she knows about Malum hurting her brother, she can turn everyone against him with a few simple words. After all, Mabel is the only reason her family tries to see the better aspects of the assassin, and if she were to abandon him, they would have no reason to hold back their anger. And she wants to. She wants to _see_ Malum undergo the wrath of her family, wants to ensure he knows how much they’re hurting because of him. 

But she can’t. She can’t do that, not when she already knows how traumatized the assassin is from the last seven years. Not when she can see how damaged his aura is. He’s already been through so much, and if their plan succeeds, he’ll have nothing and no one to return to.

So, she takes a deep breath and smiles weakly, the partially true lie passing from her lips easily, “Yeah. I just… I don’t want to go back. That’s where… And we’ll probably have to go to the portal site to get the crystal. It’s just… it’s my fault he’s gone.” 

Stan’s voice is soothing and soft, words warm and comforting, “Mabel, pumpkin, you know it isn’t your fault. You never could have known the outcome when you chose not to push the button. And hey, I should have told you two what I was working on to begin with, that way you would never have had to make that choice. I knew how curious and adventurous you both were, I should have realized I was putting you in more danger by keeping you in the dark.” 

She allows her eyes to water a bit and sniffs, nodding as Stan pets her hair. They stay like that for a while, absorbing each other’s silence. Mabel drifts off eventually, exhaustion taking over and dragging her into a peaceful slumber. 

**Dipper**

_Tick. Tock._

The loud rumbling purr of the motorbike resonates throughout Dipper’s body, flowing through his veins and pulsing alongside the beat of his heart. It’s comforting. It’s the only thing tying him to reality right now, the only thing subduing the bitter numb threatening to take hold. He blinks tiredly behind the tinted helmet visor, registering the sudden slowing of the RV and truck a couple dozen meters ahead of him. Gravity Falls is another three to four hours away, and there isn’t anything really around here to keep them from plowing forward. 

Slowing the bike to a stop beside the truck, Dipper taps on the window, flipping the visor from his face. Wendy rolls down the window, radio in hand and an eyebrow raised. “What’s up?” 

Dipper looks up at her, raising an eyebrow in return, “Why are we stopping?” 

Wendy rolls her eyes, shooting him a pointed look, “Since you didn’t notice, the RV is groaning like a woman in childbirth, so we’re going to take a tiny break while Stan and Ford fix her up.” Shifting, probably to hook the radio onto her belt, Wendy flings open the door, successfully smacking Dipper and sending him into a teeter between balance and the threat of falling. 

It takes a minute to restable himself, but by the time he is capable of glaring at the redhead she has slunk off, chatting with Stan beside the RV. Sighing, Dipper pulls the helmet off his head, sliding off the bike, and hangs it on one of the handles. He watches the family in their chatter- excluding Mabel, who has yet to appear from the RV- before turning and walking into the forest. 

_Tick. Tock._

The environment isn’t all that different from Gravity Falls. Tall pine trees tower and stretch upward, golden sunlight filtering through the dense waxy needles. There’s a quiet yet crisp crunch underfoot and the wind sighs pleasantly while flowing lazily through the trees. 

Dipper doesn’t know how long he walks, hands stuffed into the pockets of his jacket, but he doesn’t stop until he comes across a stream. It gurgles and bubbles peacefully, and Dipper can’t help but sit on one of the smooth stones beside it. 

_I guess I was wrong…_ the voice begins, a sympathetic note to it, _I don’t know exactly how Gideon managed to turn her against you, but he did._

The assassin doesn’t bother replying, eyes unfocused on the glistening water. To say Mabel’s sudden change in opinion is a shock to his system would be an understatement. All the events of the past four hours after leaving the fort are blurry and unremarkable. Dipper doesn’t remember even driving away from the fort, the scenery surrounding the road, the usually seemingly endless journey from one point to another. None of it stuck. Dipper doesn’t know what to do. He wants to understand why Mabel thinks he killed her brother, what motivated her sudden change in opinion.

He decides it’s for the better. If he wants to protect his sister, Dipper knows there can be no hesitation in his plan. He isn’t too sure what he’ll do if everything goes well, if he actually defeats Bill once and for all. Dipper will probably travel off to some other continent, as he would rather run from his problems _(read: family and sister)_ than try and confront them. 

_Tick. Tock._

Closing his eyes, Dipper sits back, absorbing the peaceful surroundings. The crystal has definitely strengthened his magic, Dipper decides. He can feel the life thrumming through the roots of the trees underneath him and the water rushing past the rock. It’s a nice change, to be so aware of the positive things, of life and energy itself, rather than the dark and more twisted side of magic. 

Of course, because his magic also loves to ruin Dipper’s life, it doesn’t alert him to the fact that someone is approaching him. Dipper doesn’t screech like a child and jump so violently that he nearly falls into the stream. He _doesn’t_. 

Someone snorts above him, and Dipper blinks up at them, surprised to see Mabel standing an arm's length away, arms crossed. She doesn’t move to help him up, and Dipper doesn’t expect her to. He moves back to his spot, crossing his legs once more and returning his gaze to the river. He doesn’t expect her to sit down next to him. 

“I still hate you, just wanted to make that clear,” Mabel begins, voice flat and dull. Dipper glances at her, and he huffs in amusement but makes no comment. “But I want, well no, I _need_ to talk about some stuff with you. Otherwise I wouldn’t be here.” 

His lips twitch into a small, sad smile, gaze still trained on the water, “It’s fine. No one really wants to spend time with an assassin. I get that. So what do you need?” 

Mabel doesn’t respond at first, her face serious as she thinks over her next words. “Remember that trick you showed me back in that store when we were looking for CDs? The emotions one?” 

Dipper blinks, surprised, “Yeah. What about it?” 

“I… I did that. To Gideon.” Dipper turns to look at her, raising an eyebrow. Mabel finally glances over, meeting his gaze briefly, “I took away all his happy emotions. Left him with all the bad ones.” 

“Oh. I… Well, I’m not going to scold you or anything, I mean, I’m sure he deserved it in some way or another. You wouldn’t do something like that unless you thought so.” 

She nods, studying her hands which are neatly folded in her lap, “Yeah. He did, I don’t feel sorry for doing it. But… ever since I did it, I’ve felt… I don’t know, vulnerable? Twitchy? Every time I come into contact with magic, no matter who it’s from or whether it was intentional or not, I feel like I’m being shocked.” 

Nodding, Dipper tries to reassure her, “Don’t worry, it isn’t permanent. You just sort of… unlocked a new aspect of your magic very quickly, almost too quickly. Your magic is still trying to rewrite itself, adapt to the change, so it gets a little pissy if it’s disturbed by other magic too much. It should be gone in a couple hours, a day at most.” 

The brunette sighs in relief, nodding absently, “Oh, that’s great. It’s kind of annoying.” 

He hums in agreement, briefly recalling the sensation from his training days. His brows furrow, “Gideon didn’t hurt you, did he? You’re okay?” 

Mabel glares at him, eyes blazing. “Yes, I’m fine. You have no reason to worry about me,” she snaps. “Honestly, I can take care of myself. I don’t know why none of you seem to grasp that concept.” 

“Just making sure.” Dipper says quietly, relief settling the brief spike of worry. “Now… Can I talk to you about something? And I need you to actually listen, no matter how angry you get with me.” 

Dipper assumes the shrug is a yes, so he begins, choosing his words carefully. “Look, I don’t know what Gideon told you to make you think I killed Dipper. I’m guessing he showed you some sort of memory, because you wouldn’t just trust his word. And I know it must have been incredibly believable, but I _swear_ on my life it isn’t true.” Mabel rolls her eyes, but makes no comment. “Mabel, do you know what magic type Gideon specializes in?” 

Mabel raises her eyebrows, giving him a dull look, but Dipper can see a spark of interest hidden in the maple depths. “He specializes in _illusions and deception_. Gideon knows how to reweave the fabric of our world and make a new image, something so realistic we wouldn’t even know it was a lie. A memory would be even easier to alter because it’s an already written story that he can just place his lie into.” Mabel narrows her eyes, scanning him for any sign of deception.

“Look, I don’t expect you to believe me, but I would _never_ hurt Dipper.” He sighs, turning his attention back to the bubbling stream. He can’t force her to believe him, after all.

“Then why, Malum, did you and that girl, the redhead, kill all those people then? I watched you both volunteer to do the job in the place of some demons. I watched you send flames to burn those people in their homes.” Dipper looks back over at Mabel, noting the angry tears glittering in her eyes. “There were innocent families down there, _children_. But you just slaughtered them all. Now tell me, what justifiable reason do you have for that?” 

He looks back at the stream. “I admit, Pai- erm, my friend and I did… set the town on fire. But we didn’t do it under the reasons you seem to be thinking. If the demons had been allowed to kill them, believe me, their deaths would have been dragged out and excruciatingly painful. They would have tortured the people for as long as possible. And we didn’t want that to happen, because like you said, there were innocent families and children there. So we pretended we wanted to take some anger out on them, yes I will admit that. But I used a spell before we did anything to ensure all those people died instantly and painlessly before we destroyed anything. They basically fainted and died, I promise. I… we just didn’t want to watch them suffer. Didn’t want to hear their screams.” 

At least the guilt he carries is lighter than what it would have been if he and Paige had allowed the demons their fun. Dipper would rather have their blood on his hands, knowing they hadn’t suffered and merely had a sudden urge to sleep before passing, than know they all had died in agony. 

He shifts, slowly rising to his feet, and dusts off his pants. Mabel is watching him, eyes wide. She hadn’t been expecting that answer, obviously. Dipper doesn’t want to know what she had been expecting. He sends a quick smile in her direction, eyes soft and sad, and says before leaving, “I don’t expect you to forgive me. Or to even believe me, I suppose. But don’t forget what I have said. I need at least one person to remember that there is some good in my legacy, even if just a tiny spark in a mass of darkness. But that will just have to be enough.” 

_Tick. Tock._

**Paige**

She waits for Dipper to wander off and away into the woods, Mabel following a couple minutes later, before becoming visible. The Pines don’t look too surprised to see her. Stan and Ford appear to be fixing the RV. Soos and Wendy are waiting quietly nearby, probably unnerved by the final destination that looms in the near future. 

Paige drifts to the floor, bright red sneakers crunching the leaves and pine needles underfoot. She picks at the edge of her shirt, rubbing the black fabric between her fingers. “So. Are you all prepared to return?” 

Everyone pauses, turning to look at her. She guesses none of them had verbally acknowledged this fact yet. She doesn’t blame them. Clearing her throat, Paige continues, “I understand this final stage is going to be exceptionally painful for you, but you all need to stay focused and prepared. Otherwise, Bill will be able to gain the upper hand and our plan will fail.” 

They slowly nod, though Stanford doesn’t look nearly as pained as everyone else. His gaze is steely. Paige blinks. He’ll be the most capable of everyone during this time, as there are no memories of Dipper to weigh him down. She nods at him, indigo irises flashing, “Should everyone else be emotionally incapacitated, you will be responsible for firing the gun at Cipher. That shot is going to either be liberation or damnation, so I need you to make it count. Got it?” 

The scientist nods, jaw clenching, “If I see an open shot, I will take it, no matter what. You have my word.” 

She smiles, the action softening her features, “Thank you. I will be there, in the background, but I will be unable to assist you. I must remain a safe distance away, because if Bill senses my presence, he won’t give you the benefit of the doubt.Now, I must be going” 

Paige gives a slight bow, shimmering white hair flowing into her face, before she vanishes once more. Once they are unable to see her, she turns and heads into the woods, moving toward the familiar pulse of magic. 

She finds him walking aimlessly around, mind elsewhere and probably in deep thought. Returning will be hard for him as well, Paige realizes. Dipper stops, eyes wandering up to the sky, studying the clouds, the wind ruffling his hair. Paige comes to a stop directly in front of him. He’s still taller than her, annoying that. She remembers when they first met, they had been roughly the same height. A wistful smile morphs her face, and her eyes tear up. She lifts a hand to gently rest against his cheek. 

“I’m sorry I left you, Dipper. You never deserved to go through any of that. I should have listened to you,” The tears race down her cheeks like waterfalls, hot and angry against her skin. “God, I’ve missed you. It’s been hard, to stay away knowing you were probably going through hell. But I was trying to find a way to free you permanently without any backlash. No excuse, but I know you would understand.” 

Her fingers brush across the mask, indigo eyes watching warm mahogany irises. “I finally did it. I found a way to set you free. And I’m going to be there for you when everything comes crashing down, because I know Bill’s death is going to affect you, but we’ll get through it. We always did, and we always will.” Her hand drops to her side, and she smiles a final time, “Just wait a little longer, and I promise everything will be okay. Just hold on.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Based on the events of this chapter, I would say there are definitely 2, maybe 3 chapters left.  
> Again, I might end up adding a couple short fics about some events during the seven year separation, so yay?  
> I would still love to hear any last minute theories before I ruin everyone's lives. However, I will be extremely vague in response to them when talking about their relevance to my planning, just because I don't want to ruin everything now. But I will gladly give my opinion, you guys are the best!
> 
> **the super exciting note**  
> I decided it might be fun to hold a contest for TBTP! Basically, draw your favorite scene from the fic. More details at the link below:  
> http://bukubird.deviantart.com/journal/TBTP-Contest-645338881
> 
> Anyway, I love you guys, thanks for being so awesome and supportive! <3


	18. The Site of Our Shattering

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The return and the beginning of the end.
> 
>  
> 
> _Of all the towns and cities they have driven through, Gravity Falls is the most haunting. There’s no breeze or wind whistling around and no song of insects or birds who could care less about the apocalypse. It’s too quiet, too silent, but Mabel doubts she has ever heard anything so loud or obnoxious. It’s unsettling and nerve wracking._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Super sorry about the delay in updates! The last three weeks have been incredibly hectic for me, and let me explain why :)))))
> 
> 1) I wanted to write a chapter over thanksgiving break, but I was sick and didn't have the energy to write this chapter, so I apologize.
> 
> 2) On the Tuesday right after thanksgiving, I fainted during my third period class, falling off a high stool and hit my head on the tile floor. I was rushed to the ER (the hitting of the head made my body do some seizure-like twitching, so it was protocol). This little scene made that week rather stressful for me and I had to catch up on school work, so, again, no writing. (btw I'm fine, don't panic).
> 
> 3) I got really sick again the following week, and again was completely miserable. I had to visit the doctor to check and see if I had an ear infection because I was in a lot of pain. However, my ear was "borderline between infection and healthy" so the doctor didn't give me any medicine and I had to sit that out. yay. 
> 
> 4) the two weeks leading up to Christmas were hectic for obvious reasons.
> 
> And sadly, I was just so drained when the break finally did arrive that my creativity was just refusing to flow for a while. Luckily, I started to get back into my groove, so that's good. 
> 
> So that sums up the past few weeks. I hope you can all understand why writing was not my first priority. I also recently took on the responsibility as Beta reader to a lovely person's original story, so I am working on balancing my reading through that and working on finishing up this, however that is one of the more enjoyable distractions from writing in the past couple of weeks. 
> 
> Anyway, enough of wallowing in my self pity. This chapter definitely has more feels :D because, you know, they're back in Gravity Falls and yeah. There are a couple of things in the last couple of chapters that no one's commented on and I'm just cackling. They are minor hints or foreshadowing or sneakpeaks that you guys just sort of glossed over and accepted and it's so funny. No offense, but you guys are adorable :D
> 
> ******!!!!!!!ALSO!!!!!!!******* in case you didn't already check it out, a side ficlet has been published in the Take Back The Pines series, it's called "Skin Stains" go check it out if you want, it's a short fic that focuses on some angsty Paige and Dipper stuff. Nothing too graphic, just descriptions of injuries really.

**Mabel**

They have to park on the edge of town, there’s too much debris cluttering the road, and the road itself is much to broken and distressed for cars to drive over. So they walk. Under normal circumstances, Mabel’s lack of lively words and bubbling thoughts would be a cause for concern amongst her family, but today they brush it off. None of them feel comfortable enough to voice their thoughts either.

Of all the towns and cities they have driven through, Gravity Falls is the most haunting. There’s no breeze or wind whistling around and no song of insects or birds who could care less about the apocalypse. It’s too quiet, too silent, but Mabel doubts she has ever heard anything so loud or obnoxious. It’s unsettling and nerve wracking. 

Unsurprisingly, the portal had taken its tolls on the town, which while rickety before, now is barely holding itself together. Mabel wanders away, arms wrapped carefully around herself and eyebrows puckered. She hesitates outside of Lazy Susan’s Diner, gazing distantly through the broken windows into the once warm and lively interior. Echos of laughter and playful bickering ring in her ears, muffled and faint. 

The Northwests’ mansion no longer stands tall and protective above the town. The beautiful wooden structure has long since burned down and has darkened with ash and the weathering forces of nature. Mabel isn’t certain how long she has been up here and can’t remember her legs carrying her up the steep hill to this resting point. The adumbral wood is rugged and coarse, almost brittle in the way it crumbles under Mabel’s fingers, her hand having come to rest on a support pillar that leans dangerously against an unstable wall. Unlike the town, the wind is audible at this height. It sounds rather lonesome and dejected, in Mabel’s opinion. 

Mabel cautiously lowers herself to a sitting position, her legs crossed on the damp grass a couple paces from the edge of the cliffside. Blinking tiredly, Mabel’s mind wanders and takes note of each place in the town below as well as the stories and memories that accompany them. The wind has a sharp, resentful bite despite it being the end of summer, and Mabel is quite glad she wore a warm sweater. 

Thankfully, Mabel doesn’t jump in surprise when Ford joins her, slowly dropping down to sit beside her and grunting in effort quietly. They sit in silence for a time, though Mabel can’t tell if it’s merely a minute or so or an hour, and she supposes that Gravity Falls always had been a bit weird, so it isn’t that surprising it would fiddle with her internal clock. Eventually, though, Stanford clears his throat. 

“Wow… it’s, uh, quite a view, huh?” Mabel nods wordlessly. She can feel his eyes on her, the weight of his gaze heavy with worry and concern. “You alright, kid? I… I know this can’t be… well, _easy_ , though that’s an understatement, I know.” 

Her laugh is short, and not quite true, but Ford’s shoulders lose some of their tension. He never has been able to read people well, Mabel muses. “Not really, no, but we won’t be here long. Just pick of the crystal, make a weapon, kill a demon, and we’re off.” 

Stanford nods, chuckling at her bluntness. They fall into another comfortable silence until Stanford breaks it once more. “I know this is hard for you, for the family, but believe me, it’s better to face the music than to run from it forever. The longer you run, the more painful it will be when you run out of places to hide.” 

She hums for lack of a better response. Mabel studies the town below for a couple minutes, then rises to her feet, holding out a hand to help Ford up. She smiles at him, “I guess we’ve been running for seven years, so it’s due time to face it. Shall we?” 

**Dipper**

Dipper isn’t surprised at the foggy daze that settles over the family when they reach Gravity Falls, their thoughts no longer verbal or shared and their eyes glazed over in a wistful, lost expression. They all wander off in their own directions, and while Dipper is tempted to follow Mabel, he finds himself slowly trudging through the streets and into the woods, following an old, worn road to the place he called home for a single short summer. 

Of all the buildings, the Mystery Shack looks the most abused, though Dipper supposes it had never been in the best shape to begin with. He hesitates on the threshold, the floorboards moaning under his weight, and gently pushes the door open. Golden beams of sunlight illuminate the room, dust particles dancing and swirling in the warm rays. 

The inside of the house and part time tourist attraction is ransacked and abused, and Dipper is almost certain that monsters and demons alike had been tearing the place apart for fun while Bill had been gathering his army and support. It’s only upon actually reaching the living spaces of the house that Dipper has to pause, heart pounding painfully against his ribs. He ghosts his way through the living room, afraid of touching or disturbing anything, because while it may not be what it was before the apocalypse, Dipper had learned long ago that he’s bound to ruin anything he touches. His eyes hungrily devour any and every sight available, noting every detail in the rooms. When it becomes too much, Dipper shuffles his way through the clutter and mess to the vending machine elevator. 

_The last crystal is below, most likely in the portal room, from what I can tell._ The voice informs him. _It’s surprising Bill didn’t sense its presence himself when he broke the portal, and even then, you would think that that would be the first place he would groom over._

Dipper hums in thoughtful agreement, the elevator’s machinery thrumming with life under the attention of his magic. “That is a little weird, I guess. Then again, there were other demons there with him at the time, so he wouldn’t want to alert them of its presence and the incredible power it possesses. I also don’t think he really invested much thought into how he was going to rebuild a portal of the size and power he’s seeking now.” Stepping into the elevator car, Dipper eyes the glowing floor buttons warily, “What floor?”

 _Hmm… third, I think. Doesn’t really matter if we’re wrong anyway, there’s only two possibilities._ Dipper nods, pressing the button for the third floor. _Is it… I don’t know, weird? Being back here? I would be a little weirded out if it were me. I mean, the Pines seem to be reacting worse than you._

“Not really. I mean, to a certain degree, yes, I guess it’s a little weird. Then again, this is where a couple of my recurring nightmares occur, so I haven’t forgotten the place. I’d say it’s more… sad seeing the empty, lifeless shell that this place has become.” 

The elevator shudders to a halt with a cheerful chime, the doors sliding open to reveal the familiar cavern. Dust rises in clouds as Dipper enters the room. It’s suffocatingly dark, the shadows creeping towards the light of the elevator in a claw-like manner. Dipper murmurs an enchantment, holding his palm out in front of him as he starts forward, the grapefruit sized orb floating in his palm shedding a warm purple light across the stone floor and walls. The portal lays in pieces, ripped apart beyond the point of repair, even for someone as skilled as Stanford. 

Dipper can sense the crystal’s presence, but the gem alludes him. Eyes slipping closed, Dipper focuses on the power of the consumed crystal, reaching down to where it now resides in his soul. With great care, Dipper gives the power a sharp tug and is pleased when he finds it easy to control and bend to his will. Breathing in a deep breath through the nose, Dipper allows his magic to reach out, scanning the room and searching over every nook and cranny before finally, tucked out in a dusty corner and surrounded by debris, he finds the crystal. Dipper tugs a thick glove on before bending over and picking the crystal up. It feels heavier than the others, the air around it saturated with magical energy. After carefully tucking the baseball-sized into a large pocket on his jacket, Dipper works his way out of the room, occasionally tripping clumsily on a rock or metal beam. 

Having seen to the main job at hand, Dipper decides it couldn’t hurt to spend a little more time in the shack. Arriving on the top floor once more, Dipper cautiously climbs the stairs leading to the attic room, testing each groaning step on the way up. Pushing the door open, Dipper’s breath catches in his throat and his eyebrows twitch into a distressed scowl. He struggles to keep his mouth pressed in a straight, unrevealing line. 

Their room, oddly enough, must be the one untouched and untainted part of the shack, maybe even the entire town. A thick layer of dust coats the room, the gray obscuring some of the bright color underneath, especially on Mabel’s half. Very quietly, as though not to disturb the room itself, Dipper moves to the center of the room between the twin beds, turning slowly in a circle to gaze around further. Surprisingly, Dipper can’t spot anything lacking or missing from the room, so Dipper assumes Mabel never got the chance to make a last minute visit before fleeing from the shack. A smile sparks a playful light in Dipper’s eyes when he spots a unicorn stuffed toy resting beside Mabel’s old pillow, and he can’t help but pick it up with gentle, caring hands. It’s aged well, despite past abuse from his sister- it was a gift on their fifth birthday, Dipper recalls, and Mabel had loved the toy excessively- the banana cream coat and bubblegum pink mane are still fluffy and soft to the touch. He carefully tucks the plushie under his arm, deciding to return it to Mabel once he sees her again, doubting she’ll be able to or even want to return to the shack herself. 

As Dipper turns and starts to shuffle back to his spot in the middle of the room, a loud crunching sound greets his ears. Surprised, he lifts his foot, not having seen the picture frame laying on the floor. Kneeling down, Dipper brushes away the broken glass from the frame, but his movements come to a halt when he acknowledges the picture itself. It’s a photograph of Stan with his arms around twelve-year-old Mabel and Dipper, their faces bright and sunny, grins beaming at whoever is holding the camera. Dipper swallows thickly, gazing down at their happy and carefree expressions, and he wishes he could go back. He wishes he could go back and spend the summer glued to Mabel’s side. He wishes he could fight harder to make Stan feel like family. He wishes he could go back and just _appreciate_ and absorb all the good he had once had. But he can’t. Rather hastily, the assassin rubs the pooling tears from his eyes, a couple sniffles sneaking out with his hiccuping breath. 

Once calm enough to avoid raising suspicion, Dipper descends from the attic, unicorn and picture cradled in his arms, and works his way through the gift shop. Nudging the front door open with his foot, Dipper is surprised to see Stan standing a couple feet away from the porch, gazing up at the shack with a guarded expression. The old man jumps at Dipper’s sudden appearance, surprised etched across his face, but he makes no comment when the boy approaches. 

“I have the crystal in my pocket, if you want to take it. Found it in the portal room.” Dipper states, adjusting the items in his arms to make the pocket more accessible. Stan scowls a little, quickly digging into the pocket to retrieve the shining crystal, relief glinting in his eyes, but he returns to scowling once more when he takes note of what Dipper is carrying. “Oh, I found these and… well, I thought it might be too painful for you guys to go back in there since… well, anyway, I thought you might want the picture back, and I got the unicorn for Mabel. Thought she might like it.” 

With shaking hands, Stan reaches for and gently pulls the picture from Dipper’s grip, expression softening at the sight. His reaction is much like Dipper’s, and Stan gives him a nod of thanks, unable to find the words that are lodged in his throat. Together, the pair slowly stroll back to the RV, the silence comforting and easy, even if Stan didn’t know why. 

  


Everyone has managed to wander back to the cars by the time Dipper and Stan return. They apparently broke into the old convenience store to loot it for more food and beverages, as Wendy and Soos halfheartedly munch on some cheeto puffs, their cans of sparkling water resting on the hood of the truck. It takes a minute for Dipper to find Mabel because she is lying on her back on the roof of the RV, limbs spread out like a starfish. He makes quick work of hauling himself up beside her, still cradling the unicorn protectively and the photograph in hand once more (Stan gave it back so Dipper could give it to Mabel while he went to talk with Ford). 

He makes sure to keep several inches of space between them, knowing that Mabel is more than likely unstable emotionally at the moment just from being in Gravity Falls, not to mention their falling out. Mabel’s eyes are trained to the sky above, studying the darkening cloud cover, but she glances over and meets Dipper’s gaze.

“Hey, I went to the shack to get the crystal, but I picked some stuff up for you too. I thought you might want these back.” 

She sits up, scooching backward to sit closer to him. When Dipper holds the plushie and picture out, Mabel’s eyes widen and she gasps softly, reaching out hesitantly. She draws the unicorn to her chest, holding it close and burying her nose into the mane to inhale briefly, before turning her attention to the photograph. The smile and quiet chuckle is nothing short of bittersweet and tears spring forth in her shining maple eyes. Apart from her quiet sniffles, the pair sit in silence as Mabel absorbs everything. 

When she finally does look up at him, Mabel’s eyes are glittering with tears- a mixture of happy and sad, Dipper knows- and a small smile brightens her features. “Thank you, I… I don’t know why you’re so kind to me when I’ve been quite the opposite to you, but this… I needed this.” She draws Dipper in for a brief hug, and despite his best efforts and improvements, he is ashamed to say he may have flinched. Mabel doesn’t seem to notice, or simply chooses not to comment, and returns to gazing fondly at the two gifts. 

**Mabel**

Stanford eventually returns to round everyone up, wanting to immediately dive into reviewing the plan and building the weapon, though he isn’t quite sure how to ask Malum to leave. Luckily, Malum politely asks to be excused, rambling about an odd magic signature from somewhere in the woods (though it _is_ Gravity Falls, is that really surprising?) and leaves to go investigate. Once the assassin has slipped away and disappeared into the thick foliage, they summon Paige. 

“Yo, my peeps,” The girl laughs, her indigo eyes flashing brightly, “How’s it going?” 

Ford wastes no time in explaining the situation, saying, “We have the four crystals, now how do we build the weapon?” 

“Oh! Excellent!” Paige lands on the road beside them, and with a snap of her fingers a large work table appears along with a box stuffed with various tools and materials, “Alrighty, let’s see them. I’ll help out with the construction of the gun, though I’ll also implant a copy of the instructions in your head just in case I have to leave suddenly.” 

The work is mainly done by Stan, Ford, and Paige, as they have the best and fastest skills in engineering of this category. Mabel pouts, crossing her arms: if it had been any other more crafty field of building, she would be kicking butt right now. Instead, she joins Soos and Wendy in standing lookout for Malum, using her magic to reach out and sense for his approaching aura. When the first hour rolls past, Malum hasn’t shown face and the trio haven’t finished the gun, so Mabel starts a game of cards, the three sitting in a circle with the card pile in the middle. She’s glad she did, because it’s another whole hour and half before Paige gives a triumph “Ha!” and hollers for them to come and gaze at their masterpiece. 

The gun is large and bulky, yet sleek in design. Mabel decides it’s definitely too heavy to be running around with, unless you were incredibly fit and muscular, and is quite happy the gun will be in Ford’s care. The crystals are located in a chamber in the butt of the gun, which has small, translucent windows on either side, allowing some of the crystals’ bright light to escape. The barrel of the gun reminds Mabel more of a cannon in its size- it’s large enough to comfortably squeeze her arm down. Overall, everyone is very impressed with the product of their hard work. 

Stanley grumbles, “It’s a pity we can’t take her for a test run. It would be nice to have a little assurance that it will work.”

Paige is quick to reassure them, patting his arm gently while her voice remains cheerful, “Don’t worry, it will. We followed the instructions exactly- excluding the fifth crystal of course- so there is no room for failure. Unless you miss, of course.” Her eyes snap to an area behind them, gaze sharpening, “And that’s my cue. Don’t worry, I’ll be around. I’m going to go and write some talismans to create a giant border around the area. It’ll keep the dorito trapped for a while if anything goes wrong, and it will ensure he doesn’t escape once you summon him into the area. Anyway, ciao!” With a quick snap of her fingers, Paige and all the summoned equipment are gone. 

Mabel turns around, eyeing the forest behind them to see what spooked the girl, her eyes widening when she sees Malum emerging. “Shit! Hide the gun, quick!” 

In a mad scramble, they stuff the bulking weapon in the RV, slamming the doors shut and hurriedly attempting to act casual. It goes about as well as can be expected and Malum raises his eyebrows at their awkwardness. 

“Are you guys okay?” He asks, glancing around at them in a confused manner, frowning. 

Mabel laughs, happy when the noise sounds more natural than she’s feeling, “Yeah, we’re fine! We were just talking about something _really_ embarrassing before you arrived, that’s all.” Everyone nods in agreement, relaxing at Mabel’s easy lie as she takes control of the situation. Deciding to share an actual part of their plan with him, she continues, “Oh, by the way, since you missed most of the discussion, don’t worry, all you have to do is summon Bill here. We’re currently having the crystals scanned just to ensure they’re all intact and shipshape, so if you don’t mind, just head down into the clearing over there and we’ll join you once they’re done.” She smiles brightly at him. 

Malum appears to take the bait, nodding in agreement. “Alright, I’ll just… go do that right now?” They nod in encouragement again. Looking oddly relieved, he begins walking forward in the direction they pointed him in. The clearing they decided upon was on a lower elevation with a high ledge where they would shoot Bill from. Mabel doesn’t like keeping him in the dark, but they can’t risk anything, and Mabel is still unsure whether or not to trust him about the Seattle incident. 

As soon as he descends into the clearing, Stanford grabs the gun and they follow after the assassin, hiding in the shadows on the ledge and lying in wait. 

**Dipper**

Dipper goes through a mental checklist in his head, reviewing all the important details of his plan. Absorb crystal power? Check. Find an opening in which the Pines are a safe distance away so he can strike? Check: thanks to their plan, he had alone time with the demon while they remained a safe distance away. Have his armor and weapons of choice at hand for when he engages Bill in a fight? Check: he had spent over an hour in the forest sorting through his collection and finally found it. The battle armor Paige had gifted him in secret: the Sentinel of the Stars. It’s by far Dipper’s favorite set- the armor itself is a shimmering silvery-white the looks like a liquid and lightweight, yet nearly impenetrable. Of the entire suit, his favorite piece is the helmet, it’s design is after an owl, with metallic feathers extending from the outer corners of the eyes outward toward the ear and a piece extending down from the helm over the nose in imitation of a beak. Along with the armor, Dipper has a multitude of weapons ready to be summoned to ensure he is never empty-handed and vulnerable during their fight. 

_Hey, kid, in case this doesn’t go as planned, I want you to know that you aren’t actually as annoying as I say you are. Still a dork, just not as annoying._

“Gee, thanks, how can I ever express my gratitude for your subpar compliment?” 

_Oi, I could have said a lot worse, but I didn’t, so suck it up and accept the compliment._

“Fine. Thank you.” Dipper snarks back, a playful smile on his lips.

After successfully scaling down the ledge and landing on the clearing floor, Dipper quickly dusts off his hands while moving to the center of the clearing. It’s kind of an odd place for them to choose, but Dipper guesses they have their reasons. He takes a moment to ease his nerves, breathing deeply, and then begins the chant. The temperature drops several degrees, and Dipper can feel an uncomfortable prickle on his skin, but he continues. He already knows what he will see when he finally opens his eyes. 

Bill stands before him, tall and towering as ever, grinning madly down at him. “Pinetree! So nice to see you, I must say, the fortress just isn’t much fun without you there. So, do you have some good news for me? Where are the little rascal Pines?” 

“The Pines have finished collecting the crystals, they are currently checking over the crystals right now to ensure you receive the best product. However, one crystal, the smallest one, went missing, though I do believe there is still enough magic in the remaining crystals for you to power your new portal.” 

The dream demon’s golden eyes narrow at the news, but he nods nonetheless, “That does not please me, I think I will have to chat with Sixer about that missing crystal. Bring them here.” 

Dipper steels himself, taking a deep breath, _here goes nothing_. “Actually, sir, I don’t think I’m going to do that.” 

Golden irises bleed to red, gaze burning on Dipper’s face, “Excuse me? That’s an order, you must obey, it’s part of our _deal_.” 

He lifts his chin, “You’re correct, but you have already broken the contract yourself, and in doing so I am free to ignore any order you throw my way. You never planned to let the Pines live after they completed this task, you said so and even went so far as to promise it yourself. You lost all your rights over me, and I am not going to stand by and allow you to hurt another person I love. Not _one_.” 

**Stanford**

They watch the assassin summon Bill and Stanford immediately can tell something is off. The interaction isn’t smooth, it’s tense and loaded. Bill is agitated, scowling at something the boy says. They’re talking too quiet to hear, so Ford has to rely solely on reading their body language to judge the situation. The demon’s eyes bleed to a dark, angry scarlet at something the boy says, and he looks _pissed_. 

_Malum didn’t somehow find out about their plans, right?_

Stanford swallows nervously, watching the boy continue in his babbling. It’s too difficult to tell. He mentally curses at their position. There is a shot, but it isn’t the most clear. And Mabel wouldn’t like it. He’ll wait a little longer, but not much.

**Mabel**

Her heart is pounding too loudly in her chest. Malum looks so small in comparison to Bill, and Mabel instantly regrets sending him in there. Bill’s obviously angry, Mabel doesn’t need to read his aura to see that, but why is he upset? She’s distracted by a movement on her left. Stanford is adjusting the gun on his arm, moving it into a better position to aim and fire. 

Very carefully, Mabel leans over and nudges him, shaking her head in a clear ‘no’. They were up high enough that they wouldn’t be heard unless they were screaming, but it’s safer to not say anything unless necessary. Stanford shakes her off, not meeting her gaze, instead fixated on the scene below. 

Leaning in, Mabel speaks, voice low and weary, “Ford, give him a minute. We don’t have an opening yet.” 

“Why is Bill so angry, Mabel? What did Malum say that would piss him off that much?” Her uncle snaps back. 

Mabel rolls her eyes, “Any number of things could piss the dorito off, he’s unpredictable.” 

“The boy,” Stanford murmurs, no longer paying attention to Mabel and talking more to himself, “He must know something. And he’s telling Bill. Everything will be ruined if this continues.” 

“Oh please, when would Malum have learned about our plans? He’s never been around when we talk about it, he can’t possibly know anything.” 

“You’re wrong.” Is all Stanford says. Mabel scoffs, but doesn’t get the chance to ask for clarification, “Stan, would you hold Mabel back for me? I think she might try and sabotage my shot.” 

Stan scowls, curious and confused, but moves to sit next to Mabel with an apologetic smile. Mabel glares at Ford, “What are you talking about, you don’t have a shot-”. Mabel’s eyes widen in realization, and she tries to leap forward and grab at the gun, but Stan holds her back, “Wait, no, Ford, please! Don’t do it, come on, just wait a minute. A better shot will come, don’t waste the shot right now! Don’t you _dare_!” 

Ford doesn’t blink an eye, but his scowl deepens. “Fine, I’ll give them time.” 

**Dipper**

Bill snarls at him, anger written in every feature, “Do you really think it wise to challenge me, _boy_? I could easily strike you down in one blow, and the only thing keeping my hand from doing so right now is my fondness for you, but that can easily be erased.” 

A smirk forms on Dipper’s lips, and Bill freezes, shocked. Dipper hadn’t behaved like that since… “Actually, I think you’ll find me to be at least an equal with your levels of power. That missing crystal? I consumed it and am now powerful enough to challenge and beat you. I have the upper hand here, after all, the crystals are very antidemon, aren’t they?” 

A deep, feral growl erupts from Bill’s chest, “You’re a fool for thinking that a mere crystal will protect you. Once I’ve slaughtered you, I’ll go and rip your family to pieces, and don’t worry, I’ll make sure Shooting Star has the most _fun_.” 

Dipper’s expression darkens, summoning his armor in a flash of light. Bill’s expression twists even further at the sight, baring his jagged teeth. Dipper never does get the chance to summon a weapon or even lift a finger to fight, however. 

**Stanford**

His eyes widen in shock at the sudden appearance of the assassin’s armor. Bill’s teeth are bared, though from this distance it could easily be a grin. He wishes he could see Malum’s face rather than the back of his head to get a better read on the situation, but it’s easy to infer what’s going on. The boy must have told him about the plan, and now they were going to attack. Despite Mabel’s pleas and cries behind him, Stanford raises the gun and takes aim.

_He has to protect his family._

**Mabel**

“Stan, let _go_ , we can’t let him fire the gun!” Mabel cries, struggling in a desperate fight against her uncle. In the corner of her line of sight, Mabel can see a flash of light in the clearing below and watches Stanford raise the gun, settling into a deep concentration of aiming. She quickly ditches her attempts to get free without injuring Stan, now too desperate to care. Finally, she manages to elbow him in the diaphragm region, knocking all the air from him in the blow. 

Before anyone else can subdue her, Mabel rushes back to the ledge, hands outstretched. She doesn’t make it in time. Mabel watches Stanford pull the trigger. Watches the blinding light build up briefly in the chamber. Watches the beam of too bright light blast away at a speed quicker than lightning. 

His aim is true. 

**Dipper**

The clearing brightens suddenly, a pure white and extremely blinding light washing over them. He doesn’t realize what has happened for a minute, in a slight shock. Distantly, Dipper can hear a scream, Mabel possibly. One glance down and he knows why. Well, that’s one way to deal with the threat, Dipper supposes. 

**Mabel**

The scream rips its way out of her mouth, a feral and heartbroken sound even to her own ears, and she clasps her hands over her mouth. Her lips wobble, and there are already too many tears building up in her eyes, but she can’t tear her eyes away. The figure below is still standing with his back to them, swaying slightly, for a couple moments, a distant cackling laughter breaking the silence, and then he crumples to the floor. _He fell like a puppet,_ Mabel thinks, her mind distant and hazy, _like the puppet he is._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *hides behind shield* okay, please don't hate me. Story has not been completed yet, you don't know what I am planning, I swear, I there is a method to my madness. 
> 
> Also, big thank you to everyone leaving such nice comments. Honestly, all comments bring a smile to my face: the really detailed, though out, and analyzed comments that just blow my mind as well as the really short but excited comments that just convey support. You guys are the best, thank you for sticking with my through this all.
> 
> Sorry if there are any typos and errors I failed to catch. It's 11:30pm here and I'm exhausted/a little sick but I didn't want to have to finish this tomorrow, so I just pulled through. 
> 
> Anyway, please leave more comments, I love reading them all. Love you guys :) <3


	19. Crumbling Facades

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Crimson, Dipper decides, is a beautiful color._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry about the delay! I had finals January 24-27, so that week and the weeks leading up to it were a bit hellish. I've also been fighting a head/back/neck ache??? it's really annoying fml like I've been getting illness after illness to the point where I've been sick since the beginning of December???? in varying degrees of illness D: whatever, moving on, don't want to bore y'all  
> I wanted this chapter to be perfect. I tried to write the weekend before finals, but it didn't feel right. But I think I got it. It is a little shorter than the past couple chapters, but I really like it for what it is.  
> This is the long awaited chapter.  
> I won't delay you any longer.

**Dipper**

Crimson, Dipper decides, is a beautiful color. It’s a contradiction. Soothing and silky, yet loud and demanding of your attention. A symbol of violence, anger, and hatred, but also the shade of courage, love, and passion. It’s unpredictable, yet constant. And currently, Dipper can’t think of a color that nears the beauty of it. Crimson looks quite exquisite on a white canvas, Dipper observes as the crimson blooms and blossoms outward from the gaping wound in his breastplate, the vibrant red contrasting the swirling star-like metal. 

Collapsing to his knees, Dipper breathes in a shaky breath, the deafening ringing in his ears finally fading out. Dipper almost wishes the painful ringing had stayed, however, when Bill’s mad cackle becomes audible. Slowly ripping his gaze away from the wound, Dipper stares at the demon looming over him. Bill has a matching wound in his own chest, a little lower than Dipper’s but still there, and no less fatal. Well, fatal in a different kind of way, Dipper supposes. There’s no blood on Bill; instead a thick and oozing inking substance spreads outward from the gaping hole. 

Bill’s face is contorted, several emotions dancing in his golden irises; fury, hatred, and annoyance aren’t very surprising, but the amusement is. There’s a twinkle of delightment amidst it all, and it makes Dipper’s stomach turn- or was that the blood loss? 

The laughter breaks enough for the dream demon to call up to the Pines, who Dipper assumes must be somewhere behind him, “Well, well, well, did the Pines finally grow a pair? I must say, while I was expecting some sort of resistance, I wasn’t expecting _this_! I do love a good surprise, though it is a little disappointing I won’t be able to stick around for much longer.” 

The wind has picked up, Dipper notices numbly, somewhere in the back of his mind where his thoughts aren’t foggy. It swirls around them in a violent and vengeful manner, sweeping dirt and dust up and around them. The clearing is growing darker as well. The shadows lengthen and reach outward toward them. Dipper shivers. 

Grin widening to a point most would consider impossible, Bill continues, voice darkening sinisterly, “However, I can’t say it surprises me, Sixer, that you were willing to make some sacrifices for the _greater good_ ,” Slitted eyes focus on Dipper’s in a brief glance, “You never did have much regard for other people whom have no emotional value to you, and even then you can just be so unpredictable.” 

Dipper blinks tiredly. The shadows are crawling up Bill’s figure, reaching upward with ancient and bony fingers. The demon’s lower legs are completely drenched in the thick color. Dipper looks at his own legs. They remain untouched by the darkness. The wind, however, is a dark gray and steadily darkening as the demon further taunts the Pines. 

The inky fluid drips from the corners of Bill’s mouth now, trailing down his chin from the corners of his grinning lips. “Alas, you chose poorly. If anyone is going to suffer loss from this incident, it won’t be me.” 

The darkness has nearly consumed Bill’s entire figure, only his head remains untainted for a short time. The gleaming eyes of gold stare at Dipper, gaze piercing and demanding. Dipper clenches his jaw in the struggle to stay strong, but his eyes are raw with emotion. Bill stalks forward a step. Then another. The demon kneels before the assassin, cooing as he grips Dipper’s face with clawed hands. The wind has bled into a deep black, too thick for Dipper to see through and drowning out the sunlight.

“You must feel so proud to have taken a stand for these worthless bastards. These _Pines_ who are so willing and ready to throw you away and spare not one glance back. At least I could see your worth. You were nothing before I _perfected_ you,” Bill leans closer, eyes gleaming. The darkness has reached the edges of Bill’s face. He frowns at Dipper, scowling in frustration, “And all it took was a month away for them to taint you. Oh well, it hardly matters anymore, they’ve sealed your fate. ” There’s a dangerous glint in Bill’s eyes as he leans in, planting a mocking kiss on Dipper’s cheek before whispering in his ear, “I’ll see you in hell, my lovely _Pinetree_.” 

Dipper can’t control the quiver of his lips.

Bill’s standing on his feet again, stubbornly staring up at the family. Dipper watches the darkness drench Bill’s face, except his eyes. They flare into a familiar piercing blue, and then the screaming begins. It’s feral and earsplitting. Dipper can’t summon the strength to lift his hands to cover his ears. Can’t find the strength to wince. Bill’s figure contorts and jerks in pain. And then it collapses inward, the darkness flying toward a small sphere before it vanishes completely. 

The tears escape before Dipper even realizes his vision has blurred. They’re large, hot tears. Uncomfortably heavy on his cheeks and too slow in their effort to drip from his jaw. 

Dipper’s never felt so alone. 

**Mabel**

Mabel watches the demon in the clearing below while he makes his taunts. His grin is too cocky for her liking, and she feels like she's missing something. Some crucial piece of information that would reveal the punchline, but Mabel can't figure it out. The demon pauses in his taunting to kneel before Malum. The two have matching holes in their chests. Stanford had chosen to shoot Bill, and Malum had been in the line of fire. Bill leans in, whispering something into his assassin's ear, and then stands tall once more. His gaze is defiant, and Mabel doesn't really feel like they've won. _“If anyone is going to suffer loss from this incident, it won’t be me.”_ How would they suffer loss? It doesn't sit well with her- makes her stomach churn and her heart do anxious flips. 

Everything comes to a startling halt. Bill’s final screeches ring in Mabel’s ears, and her heart must stutter at some point. It's a sound of pure agony and fear- something she hadn't been expecting from the demon. In the blink of an eye, his figure- cloaked in a pure darkness- is gone, leaving Malum alone in the clearing. Mabel's eyes harden, glinting with determination. He needs her. Before any of her family can stop her, Mabel darts down into the clearing. His armor has vanished, probably gone back to wherever he had summoned it from. Kneeling next to the hunched figure, Mabel rests her hand lightly on Malum’s shoulder. 

“Hey… l-let’s have you lie down, okay? You… here you can rest in my lap.” Mabel’s voice is shaking only a fraction less than Malum’s shoulders. He slumps suddenly, and Mabel’s glad she already had the plan of supporting him. Pulling him close so his upper body rests on her legs, Mabel cradles him as close as possible. 

The wound is just below his collarbone on the right side of his chest. The blood quickly soaks through her skirt and is too warm on her skin. If not for his magic, Mabel knows he would already be dead. Her lip wobbles as her fingers comb through Malum’s hair distractedly. He’s gazing up at her, glistening tears springing up as fast as they fall. Mabel knows her own eyes are heavy with tears, but she attempts to wear a brave smile for him anyway. She fails. 

His breaths are stuttering and uneven. Mabel doesn’t need to open her third eye to look at his aura, Malum’s eyes are expressing all his emotions explicitly. Fear, anxiety, and panic shine the brightest. 

“What were you doing?” Mabel whispers desperately, frustrated with the circumstances of everything. Frustrated with Stanford. Frustrated with Bill. Frustrated with Malum. 

For a reason unknown to Mabel, Malum smiles a small, fond smile, gentle eyes crinkling a little and causing more tears to spill. “I was going to fight Bill. I was going to try and defeat him once and for all. I… I had gotten armor and weapons prepared and everything, but…” He coughs, a couple of drops of blood flying from his mouth. “But it looks like… it looks like you guys already… had that handled.” 

Mabel’s eyes widen, and she tries to pull him closer, as if to shelter him from the world, “You… _oh god, what have we done?_ I am so, so _sorry_.”

He gives a tiny shake of his head to brush aside her apology and reaches a hand up to cup her cheek. There’s a constant, heavy tremor in his hand. 

Mabel sucks in a deep breath, a thought springing into her mind. Her fingers tremble a little when she reaches out, but she pauses to explain when Malum flinches away. “Look, I- I’m not going to pretend you’re going to be okay. Malum, you… you don’t have much longer and I… I’m _not_ letting you die in this stupid mask.” 

Shockingly strong hands clamp down on her wrists, and Malum’s gaze is desperate, “No, Mabel, _no_. Don’t, I swear it won’t make me feel more f-free. _Please, it won’t be pretty for either of us_.” 

Mabel huffs a tiny laugh, removing Malum’s hands from her wrists. She rests a hand on his cheek, gripping the edge of the mask between her fingers, “Are you seriously worried about _looks_ right now? Honestly, you can’t look worse than Gideon.” 

He doesn’t stop her efforts this time, though Mabel suspects he’s lost too much strength to give much of a fight, and instead shuts his eyes. With careful movements, Mabel peels the mask off his face. 

His face has matured in the last seven years, with more pronounced cheekbones and a sharp jawline. His eyes- _why hadn't she recognized his eyes?_ \- are still critical and searching. He has a couple small scars on the left side of his face, claw marks most likely. And on his forehead, previously hidden by the mask, is the Little Dipper birthmark that Mabel knows so well from her childhood. 

She can't help but gasp. 

**Dipper**

The air is a rush of cold on his now exposed upper face. Mabel’s sharp gasp sends a pain shooting through his heart and down to his toes. He keeps his eyes tightly shut for a couple seconds, too much of a coward to face her. Dipper tries to swallow, but it stops halfway down his throat. A fresh wave of tears grace his eyes and soon will do the same to his cheeks, and Dipper opens his eyes. 

There’s too many tears in his sister’s eyes. Her maple irises usually sparkle with so much life, even when in an unpleasant mood. But they’re blank without a dancing light. Mabel’s eyes are impossibly wide, staring at him as though searching his soul. 

He exhales a shuddering breath, “I told you it wouldn’t be pretty… honestly, Mabes, you should just _listen_ sometimes.”

When Mabel’s lips finally move to form words, they’re barely above a whisper, “ _Dipper?_ ” 

Gently nudging her hand with his cheek, Dipper manages to give Mabel a small smile, “I’m sorry. I had… hadn’t planned it this way, but…” He trails off. Dipper’s brain feels too slow. Too muffled. Like his train of thought has activated the brakes and is coming to a halt. Dipper blinks sluggishly up at Mabel, head slowly moving to lean against her arm. 

“Wait, no, no, no _no, no!_ This- no this can’t- this can’t happen! I- we just- Dipper, no this can’t _happen_!” Her breathing is speeding up, choppy and much too quick and her voice is shrilled. Dipper raises his hand to grip Mabel’s in his own, his thumb tracing her knuckles in a soothing back-and-forth rhythm.

“Mabel, _Mabel_ , it’s not your fault. It’s going to be okay... Bill’s gone, you can go punch some demons and monsters in the face without having to worry too much. You’ll… you’ll be okay.” _She’ll be okay._

A sob escapes his sister, and she burrows her face into his hair. “No! It can’t be okay, it can _never_ be okay! Not without you!” She cries for a couple minutes, and Dipper doesn’t move to interrupt her. Her sobs are muffled in his ears. 

“You’ve been okay the last seven years. This won’t be much different, I promise.” _You don’t need me. I’m expendable._

**Mabel**

Mabel would have stayed hidden in Mal- no, _Dipper’s_ hair if he hadn’t been seized by a violent coughing fit. Mabel supports him as he curls in on himself, rubbing her hand up and down his back. 

Her brain feels frozen. They had been constantly on the lookout for any sign of her brother for the last seven years, and it turns out he had been with them for the past month. She had watched romcoms with _Dipper_. _Dipper_ had taught her new magic techniques. _Dipper_ had defended her. _Dipper_ had laughed with her. He had become her friend. And then he wasn’t. 

Dipper relaxes a little, settling in her arms once more. Mabel’s thoughts come to an abrupt halt, and there’s too many tears. Blood is trickling down Dipper’s face from the corners of his mouth, which is forced into a shaky smile. 

“S-Soos knows some healing magic, he can do something- let me call-” Mabel’s voice has a strong tremor butchering her words, but Dipper’s hand squeezes her own, momentarily distracting her. Her fingers subconsciously move from Dipper’s hair to trace his birthmark. 

“Mabel… he won’t be able… to do anything,” Dipper swallows, his face contorting in pain before returning to the comforting smile. “I’m… I’m glad I got to see you… and everyone… just being able to watch you guys… it’s more than I could have imagined.” His eyes remain gentle and kind, but his voice is growing quieter with each word. Mabel holds him tighter. She presses a soft kiss to his forehead. “It’s okay, Mabel… I’m just happy you will be safe… and that I could talk with you… as myself, one last...” 

When he fails to finish his thought, she jerks back and Mabel’s eyes widen, gazing down at her brother. His chest, which had been rising in slow, shallow breaths, is still. His eyes are shut. Mabel’s jaw clenches, but the tremble remains. Mabel’s shoulders shake with suppressed sobs. She watches her tears, hot and angry, fall on Dipper’s cheeks. 

Her scream puts Bill’s to shame.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was incredibly painful to write, despite the fact that I have had this planned since the beginning.  
> Anyway, you guys were so desperate for the reveal, are you happy now? No? Whoops. (plz don't kill me)  
> Don't worry though, the fic is NOT finished. I still have plans, there will be at least one more chapter (maybe two??). The story has not reached its end quite yet, so I recommend you don't drop this fic on the basis of this chapter's events.
> 
> ALSO FOR THE RECORD I hadn't planned to end the chapter this way, but my friend convinced me to be savage and ruin everyone's lives so whoops. If you leave a message for her in your comment, I'll make sure she gets it ;D
> 
> As always, please leave comments with your thoughts and feelings! I love reading what you have to say and your opinions, even if only a couple words! :)
> 
> Last thing, I will work on the cover and release it with the next chapter. See you then! (or in the comments) <3


	20. An Abrupt Farewell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I am so so so so sososososososoSO sorry for the delay; I have been fighting a lack of inspiration for this story because Gravity Falls and its fandom is no longer super active and so it's not a major presence in my life. I also have been dealing with:  
> -exams/tests  
> -homework  
> -so, so many birthdays and too many presents to make  
> -general stress and anxiety from school  
> -I lost my motivation because of all the projects/homeworks/stress from exams  
> -headaches/migraines  
> -and then summertime came and I've been busy with projects around the house and have been strangely tired lately??? anyway, those are all my excuses, hate me as much as you want :/
> 
> so yeah. but still, I feel super shitty for leaving you guys for so long (y'all probs thought I was abandoning this but NOPE IM JUST A SHIT)
> 
> Also, I was having issues deciding how to end this. I had two different ideas for the end and both were equally appealing, so the decision has been stressful + lack of motivation = ultimate procrastination. Anyway, I wanted to do this story justice and didn't want to write a crappy ending, you know? So I've been warring with this for a while.
> 
> Anyway, a big thank you to everyone who has been so patiently waiting for this, I cannot express my thanks for the utter devotion you all have. You guys are some of the best people I have had the pleasure of talking to and have been my pillars of support and motivation through the entirety of TBTP. Every kudos that has ever popped up in my inbox brought a smile to my face and every comment has been read and loved on. Thank you so much for motivating me to become a better writer! I love you all so much, so
> 
> Now without further adieu
> 
> Go read ;)

_When he fails to finish his thought, she jerks back and Mabel’s eyes widen, gazing down at her brother. His chest, which had been rising in slow, shallow breaths, is still. His eyes are shut. Mabel’s jaw clenches, but the tremble remains. Mabel’s shoulders shake with suppressed sobs. She watches her tears, hot and angry, fall on Dipper’s cheeks._

_Her scream puts Bill’s to shame._

**Stan**

Bill is dead. After seven years of fighting for survival, of plotting and fighting, it doesn’t seem real. Almost like it happened too fast, and there was no time to absorb it. Bill is dead, and the only person- Malum, _who was practically a child_ \- who may have had any connection to his lost nephew has been condemned to death. Bill is dead, and it somehow doesn’t feel like enough. Bill is dead, and Stan feels as though _he’s_ the one who has been robbed. Bill is dead. 

No one moves as Mabel screams. It’s only a minute later that Stan even registers her cries. He moves slowly and sluggishly toward his niece in a daze. The others don’t move to follow. She cradles the boy's face, her thumb rubbing in circular motions over his cheeks. His chin is streaked with blood, dark and out of place on a face so young. Malum is still and unmoving. Stan’s brow furrows as he stares at the boy’s face; there is something familiar about the youth now that the mask doesn’t mar his features. Something familiar in the cut of his cheekbones and the stress lines under his eye

Stan’s eyes widen, tears gathering in glistening pools on the edge of spilling. He drops to his knees. It isn’t graceful or poetic like they show it in movies, and it hurts his aged joints. But Stan doesn’t care. He shuffles forward carefully, reaching out a hand. His stubbled jaw trembles violently. Stan cups the boy’s cheek over Mabel’s hand. A cheek too cold for a face so young. 

“Dipper? _K-kiddo?_ ” 

**Paige**

The wind blows as warm as a breath, growing in strength and determination as the minutes tick by. Paige waits a distance away from the Pines and Dipper, arms crossed and gaze set on the storm clouds rumbling on the horizon. She itches to return, to sneak to their side to observe the events as they unfold, but Bill is too familiar with her magic and would sense something to be wrong. So she waits. Silvery hair dances in the wind around her face. Paige wonders, if everything goes well of course, if Dipper will like her new hair. And her eyes. Then she snorts, shaking her head. _Like Dipper is actually going to care after you abandoned him._

The wave of raw and untamed magic races past Paige unexpectedly, pulsing outward from its source. Stiffening, Paige whips around, gazing in the direction of the clearing and waits. The minutes tick by in an eerie silence, the birds having fallen silent and only the wind’s ominous whispers to keep her company. Slowly, Paige begins walking over, hugging her sides nervously. She watches the area with narrowed eyes. They have fired the weapon, and she can’t see any commotion, so Bill has surely been taken down. The warm curls of relief don’t come, however, and instead a growing sense of dread envelopes her insides, tempting her to empty her stomach in the nearby vegetation. What could possibly-

Gasping, Paige collapses to the floor, eyes wide and hand flying to her chest over her heart. There’s a feeling of a rope that has been stretched too far, snapping under the tension. It’s a cannon blast and the sudden loud ringing of deafness accompanying it as debris and shrapnel fly everywhere. It’s a bullet shattering glass into millions of fragments. It’s everything and yet nothing. Extraordinary, and yet unremarkable. 

The familiar hum and song of Dipper’s music- a melody of shy warmth and affection hidden beneath a stone cold facade, just waiting to burst into freedom- dies abruptly. Paige reaches for any trace, _anything_ , but there is nothing and no one to reach for. Only silence and nothingness. 

_Paige has never heard silence quite this loud._

**Mabel ******

********

Mabel’s sobs refuse to lessen or soften and she keeps her nose buried in Dipper’s hair. Dipper, the twin brother she had so long searched for. Dipper, her best friend. Dipper, her most faithful companion and confidant. Dipper, who’s now cold to the touch and will never wake again. She had never, in all her years, expected to be forced to watch her brother die and be unable to do anything but hold him close. 

********

Stanley’s arms are wrapped around her and Dipper, enveloping the twins in a shaking hug. Stan’s sobbing matches Mabel’s own broken cries as he gazes down at Dipper’s face. He cards a hand through Dipper’s hair with trembling hands and cradles his cheek, brushing a calloused thumb under Dipper’s eye. Mabel only cries louder.. 

********

She doesn’t bother to look up at the rest of her family. At Wendy, whose tears run silently down her cheeks as she stands stiff as a soldier over them. Nor at Soos, who had thrown his hat across the clearing and now stands braced against the wall, shoulder shaking through his tears. Mabel especially doesn’t look at Stanford. Ford or his gun, which he guiltily holds in his arms. He watches them with a strangely blank look in his eyes. He doesn’t cry; Ford never knew Dipper, after all. 

********

They don’t have the luxury of mourning in peace, however. Mabel’s sobs hiccup into an abrupt halt when a deep, rumbling and _angry_ voice calls out, “ _ **What the hell have you done?**_ ”

**Paige**

_Dead._ Just like that. No warning given, he is just gone, faster than a flash of lightning as it splits the sky. Dead, and Paige never had the chance to say a proper farewell, not then and not now. His face, a blank canvas, cold and distant, never to brighten or darken with emotions ever again.

Distantly, Paige is aware of storming over and how the wind picks up in response to her upset. She can feel her hair whip around in a frenzy. The Pines are all frozen in place, staring at her with varying degrees of shock, confusion, and fear. Paige halts beside Mabel, her gaze fixated on the body. Her hands begin to shake, if only just, and Paige clenches them into fists. The flash of pain as her nails bite into the palm of her hand is reassuring and welcome. Her jaw aches under the force with which she clenches her teeth together. Paige glances at Mabel- the dull and empty gaze, the tracks of tears running down her pale cheeks, the tremble of her lips as she subdues another sob- before turning to stare down the others. 

Dead. And he never knew. Never knew that Paige is alive. Dead. _Deaddeaddeaddeaddead-_

Her voice is loud and suffocating like thunder as it rolls overhead, "Well? I asked a question, and I would not recommend you test my patience." Paige's eyes flash their toxic green as a warning. 

Stanford's stammered excuse is weak. _In the way. We didn't know. Had to take the opportunity._ Not good enough. She punches him, fist connecting with his jaw with a satisfying thud. He stumbles back, Wendy and Soos moving to stabilize him. Paige glares at him. _Not good enough._

Mabel's voice shakes, a small and heartbroken plea, "Can't... isn't there anything you can do, Paige? You have magic, you're strong, surely you can save h-him." Paige stares into Mabel's eyes, which are swimming with tears. Stanley looks just as broken as Mabel, kneeling beside his niece and nephew, his shoulders shaking with silent sobs. She can forgive them, Paige decides. They understand her pain. 

But Mabel's question deserves an answer. Paige would love to lie; one of gentleness, to save her from further pain and mourning. A little lie to spare her from grief and heartbreak. But no. The truth is bitter and cruel, but it is the only answer Paige can supply. 

Clearing her throat, Paige looks away. Away from the family. Away from the tragedy. "No. He is already gone, and no power I know- especially not my own- can reverse what has been done." 

"Please, _please_ we just got him back, we can't lose him again, surely you can-" Mabel insists. 

"No." Paige snaps. "Dipper is gone. His soul has left him, his body is nothing more than a vessel now. I'm sorry, believe me, if there was something I could do, someone I could contact, I would. But there is nothing to be done." 

Her words are met with silence. Paige turns back to them, staring down at her friend's body. _Dead_.

They stay down in the clearing for hours, Mabel and Stanley remaining to guard the body of their loved one. Paige keeps them company, though mostly for her own need to be near Dipper, if only for a short time. The others leave quietly, retreating like dogs with their tails between their legs, walking hand-in-hand back to the RV. 

Mabel and Stanley don't appear remotely interested in moving from where they sit until the soft pitter patter of rain on the leaves of the trees above shakes them out of their daze. Stanley scoops Dipper into his arms, whose body has begun to stiffen, and they slowly trudge back up and out of the clearing. They don't return to the RV, however, and instead find an area where the trees are thick enough to shelter them from most of the rain. 

Rain had been Dipper's favorite weather, Paige remembers dully. He enjoyed standing beneath the rolling clouds of angry grays and blues, face turned up toward the downpour, one of his rare, soft smiles gracing his face. The sound was a comfort for him, reminding him of past times with his family. A sound that was sure to lull him into a deep, restful sleep. Perhaps, Paige thinks wistfully, the sky and weather is mourning a child lost too soon. 

  


They don't burry him. Mabel doesn't want him burried, definitely not here in the middle of nowhere, and had declined the option with tears in her eyes. It's not something she should have to make a decision about, especially not at the age of nineteen. Instead, with Paige's help, they perform a spell to preserve his body, which is tucked in the back of the RV with a blanket covering him. Only Mabel and Stan use the RV currently, the others hiding in the truck. Stanford, Wendy, and Soos all have to deal with extreme guilt, over how they treated him and how everything ended. Paige doesn't care. 

The drive back to the east coast is as pleasant as it can be, considering the situation. Paige shares her story with Stan and Mabel, who hang onto her words like it's their lifeline. The pair hunger for information, and Paige doesn't diprive them of it. She doesn't lighten underemphasize the dark times- the times of tortures and punishments- but only because she understands that they crave and need to know everything that happened to their Dipper. Everything that damaged him and everything that shaped him into the assassin they had grown to know. When there are tears, they aren't acknowledged, because there isn't much to say about them and Paige expects nothing less. 

By the time they reach the Pines' sanctuary, Paige has grown to know Stanley and Mabel rather well. Mabel announces that Paige can stay with them for as long as she would like. Paige accepts, knowing she needs their support. It's nice to have people she can trust again.

The sanctuary is impressive. A magic border hides the settlement from unwanted attention. Nestled in the woods, the Pines and other survivors they managed to find have built a fortress of sorts, with secure walls and buildings for housing, training, and other activities. It's strange for Paige, hearing the hustle and hum of people after her time being alone. Children run around, playing games and goofing off, and adults work on their different tasks or talk, smiling and greeting Stanley as he drives past. The RV pulls up to a large house, and Stanley once more carries his nephew's body as they leave. Mabel leads them through a gate on the side of the house and back into a courtyard. They make preparations to have Dipper's body burned, working with speed to take their minds off of what exactly is going to happen. 

When it happens, it's a small event, with only the Pines family and Paige there to witness it. Despite having cried buckets of tears in the past week, more rush over their cheeks as the flames crackle and the wood pops and sighs. Paige stands, back straight and head held high, her hands folded carefully in front of her. Too soon, is all she can think. How cruel for her family to have to watch him die, rather than just learn the news of his death. How cruel for Mabel to have to hold her brother's hand as he fades away, for her to be able to see what he had grown to be, but never be able to know him herself. How ironic, she thinks bitterly, that in the end it wasn't Bill's hand to end Dipper's life, but his own uncle, a figure who had inspired him in his younger years. 

Mabel talks sparingly to Stanford, words clipped and careful. She'll forgive him, Mabel tells Paige one afternoon, but not for a while yet. "He didn't have to shoot at that moment," Mabel says, voice tight and fingers clenched in the fabric of her sweater, "He didn't have to, he could have waited. But Ford was scared. He was scared and decided it couldn't be put off, not even if it meant sparing the life of one person. Sure, he didn't know Mal... Dipper that well and he didn't trust him, but then he never really have him a chance. I think it wasn't even that he was scared the opportunity to kill Bill and Bill alone wouldn't show, but more that he had the opportunity to kill two birds with one stone. And he took it." Paige didn't agree or disagree, choosing to stay silent. There are many things she would like to say, but they would be unfair since she has yet to ask Stanford about his choice and doesn't really know him enough to judge his character. 

Paige stays at the sanctuary for three months. It's relaxing to be given a schedule and chores to complete, nice to work into a groove like she had under Bill's training. She tries to benefit these people as much as she can, wanting to do some good for once. When she isn't doing community work, Paige spends time with Mabel and Stanley, becoming fast friends with both of them. Paige and Mabel both fill a spot at each other's side, and become near constant companions. Paige also makes friends with Soos, though their friendship is slow and tentative. Wendy and Stanford both avoid Paige like the plague, and she doesn't make much of an effort to seek them out anyway. 

But the three months pass and Paige itches to move on. Even when stuck in Bill's fortress, there was an excitement and a thrill to life that this sanctuary doesn't provide. Paige longs to finish things, to bring an end to the demons' terror over the earth. She longs to avenge the deaths of everyone she loved and all the innocent people who were lost to their madness. So, when she shares her wishes to leave, Paige tells Mabel and Stanley her plans. Maybe, so that if she never returns they know why. Maybe to give them hope. Maybe because she hopes they'll insist upon joining her, so that she won't be so alone. They do insist, and when she refuses, Stanley tells her that she isn't the only one who needs to avenge Dipper's death and isn't the only one who seeks justice. Paige doesn't argue with them after that, instead accepting their companionship in stride. 

Paige teaches Mabel about her magic, and watches Mabel blossom into someone powerful. Her magic signiture is familiar, achingly similar to _his_ , and yet it's unique in it's own respects. While Mabel has suffered through the apocalypse, she had never truly suffered as Dipper had, and her magic reflects that. Her magic, while it can inflict pain, doesn't know the cruel techniques that Dipper had mastered through personal experience. There is no haunted aura in her magic, no hollow emptiness, just sorrow and grief and guilt. Paige knows Mabel is constantly haunted by the _what ifs_ , no matter how many times Paige and Stanley reassure her that it wasn't her fault. 

She may not have known Mabel well before Dipper's death, but in the brief time before, Paige had come to know a bright, beaming girl who was optimistic about the future. She had had hope, a dazzling twinkle in her eyes that promised mischief and excitement. The Mabel standing next to Paige now is much different, Paige knows. There are less smiles, and when Mabel does grin, the warm flame rarely ignites in her eyes. She dresses in darker colors too, but Paige understands that to be a choice of mourning and grief. But the most vast change, in Paige's opinion, is the sudden lack of drive in Mabel. Oh sure, Mabel is determined to assist Paige in wiping out the demons and monsters still haunting and ravaging the world. Paige wonders, though, what will happen once the final villain falls. When there is no more enemies to defeat. When she has avenged her brother's death, and there is no one left to pay except her uncle. 

Paige blinks, refocusing on their next target, a looming pyramid fortress in the distance. It's a familiar sight. Paige knows it well from the times she and Dipper had run away, hoping desperately that _maybe this time it'll work out okay_ and _maybe this time Bill won't find them or won't care enough to drag them back_. Mabel and Stanley's faces are brooding and grim, staring at the prison that had stolen and hidden Dipper away for so long. This isn't going to be an easy fight, but then, they had never fought with as much anger and hatred as they will this time. 

Paige takes a deep breath, grinning at her companions. Raising an eyebrow, she smirks and says, "Who's ready to kick some ass?" 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there we have it folks. JUST KIDdInG, if you want the alternate ending, check out the next work in the series, "Defying All Odds" where the alternate/happy ending is.
> 
> Anyway, umm, yeah. So, again, thank you all for the support and love that you have given me throughout the process of writing this fic. You guys are amazing and wonderful and I cannot express how important you all are to me. And yeah. Hopefully, you guys enjoyed the endings, you can choose whichever to be the canon ending, I don't really care, I like both. Please leave comments, say hi and all that fun stuff. Also, feel free to talk to me on tumblr or instagram, it would be nice to talk with you guys again.
> 
> ANYWAY, I love you guys, bye!
> 
> Lots of Love,  
> ~NovusAvis/BukuBird

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed, please leave a comment, it doesn't have to be more than a few words, but it would be greatly appreciated!
> 
> I CHANGED MY TUMBLR ADDRESS 
> 
> Tumblr: novusavis.tumblr.com


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